The Savvy Spider-Man!
by Undead Robot
Summary: Jake Fletcher wasn't always himself. Then he was Spider-Man because he can't keep to himself. Oh well, he always wanted adventures anyways. At least he still has friends by his side and an encyclopedic knowledge of tropes. (OC-SI story)
1. Origins

**Chapter #1: Origins**

I read Witches Abroad as the bus full of idiots rode merrily towards a lab filled with potential lunatics. Somehow, I got the feeling my day would only go downhill from there.

Peter Parker, my best friend since diapers, sighed as he sank down in his seat and pulled a paper airplane from his hoodie.

"You know, I almost admire their dedication," I comment, putting my bookmark in place and pulling my own airplane out of my ear (another thing I could admire was their aim). "They brought a lot of paper just to annoy us. They don't do that just for just anyone, you know?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd call you an optimist, Jake." Peter smirked at me, pulling a binder out of his bag. "By the way, I almost finished with the kinetic goo."

"I still say we should have come up with a better name than 'kinetic goo', but continue."

"I think that if I can figure out what to do about _this_ ," he pointed at something I absolutely didn't understand on the latest page, "Then I can finally get a stable batch."

"Awesome," I punched his shoulder lightly. "I still can't believe you started this a week ago, dude. You should be in college already, instead of slummin' it with us feeble-minded mortals."

"And miss out on making you look bad? _Please_ ," Peter replied easily.

Honestly, befriending Peter was probably the best thing I had going for me. Despite being reborn into a fictional universe I was somewhat familiar with, I didn't have much in the talents department, aside from a pre-packaged taste in literature, music, and fashion.

We stopped in front of Oscorp and I grimaced at the building.

"C'mon, man, it's not that bad." Peter bumped my shoulder. "We get to see all the latest in genetic engineering!"

"… Right," I sighed and followed Peter out. Spider-Man had always been my favorite superhero, especially on account that he just never gave up. Peter… he would benefit in some ways from becoming Spider-Man, sure. But he'd also be stuck with an endless parade of horrible shit-storming.

Did I let him become a hero, or not? How could I make a choice like that for someone's future?

"Ah, the Midtown group, right?" the tour guide gave us a practiced smile and gestured for us to follow. "Right this way."

We walked along, and I barely paid attention as I looked around the building. As we got deeper into the building, we saw more and more people in lab coats running around, carrying papers and colorful liquids in test-tubes.

"You know, this place looks like it produces Supervillains by the ounce." I whispered to Peter, who shushed me and elbowed me in the ribs.

Eventually, we made it to a room filled with glass. And inside the glass, there were bird, lizards, and spiders.

I shuddered as I looked at the last one. There should never be that many spiders in a single place.

Yes, I'm well aware of the irony of an arachnophobic Spider-Man fan. Hilarious, I'm aware. I'm cracking up as I think of it. Hah.

Well, I wouldn't really call myself arachnophobic. I'm not scared of spiders as much as intensely creeped out by the way they moved, breed, and generally exist.

So, only mildly arachnophobic, I guess.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I jumped slightly. I turned and found Peter giving me that puppy-dog worried look he does.

"Hey, you okay?" He pointed over his shoulder. "Maybe you should focus on the birds or something."

"I think I'd rather know where the eight-legged spawn of Satan are, Pete." I smiled shakily. "But thanks, you're a bro."

He smirked and went back to looking around the room, occasionally taking a picture. Heh, he's a regular camera fiend, that guy.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the spiders, and looked around their chambers. Each one seemed full, so where was…

Ah, there: the empty glass box that would set off everything. I seemed to be the only one that noticed it, so…

This is the moment of truth, then? I'm in some kind of 'what you are in the dark' situation, maybe?

I looked at Peter over my shoulder and sighed. Fuck it, the universe will figure itself out.

"Excuse me, miss?" I raised my hand and pointed. "One of these glass thingies is missing a spider."

The tour guide gave me an alarmed wide-eyed look, before smiling nervously. "Not to worry! I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere around here, our staff is very competent."

The other students looked around, nervously. Then Flash laughed and pointed at me. "Maybe they should hire Fletcher, he found it already."

I made the connection instantly and closed my eyes.

"Peter?"

"Yes Jake?"

"Please tell me the spider isn't where I think it is."

"Um… I'm not a good liar," Peter gave me a nervous chuckle. "Maybe you'll be okay if you don't move?"

I opened an eye and looked down. There, on my right shoulder, sat a blue and red spider with yellow rings around its eyes. Slowly, I raised my left hand and started moving to grab it.

"Don't bite me, you fucker, I _will_ smack you." I softly whispered at it. "You know I will."

The spider, rather rudely, ignored my warning, climbed onto my neck, and bit me.

"SHIT!" I shouted, smacking the spider away.

It kinda figures that the first hickey I got was from a spider.

"JAKE! Are you okay?" Peter came running, fussing over me.

"Yeah, hurts like a bitch, tho." I touched my neck gently and found that my fingers came back with blood and something green.

Peter and I looked down at my hand, a few other students looking over his shoulders and making gagging noises at the green funk, before I looked up and muttered, "That can't be good," and passed out.

 **/ E\\\\\**

I woke up in a hospital, feeling sick to my stomach and like everything was shaking.

"Ugh," I eloquently stated. I turned my head and found a blur to the left of my bed, "Guh."

I fell back asleep before the blur could answer.

This went on for a while, with me coming in and out of awareness, and finding different kinds and amounts of blurs at my bedside.

Eventually, lucidity stuck, and I managed to stay awake for good.

Blinking heavily and cleaning the gunk from my eyes, I sat up in bed.

"Where the fuck…?" I started, before everything that happened came back to me.

Including the spider; or rather, especially the spider.

I leaned back and poked at my body. I'd taken the chance that this second life granted and started Muay-Thai lessons as soon as I could, so I was already fairly well-built. However, what I found under my hospital gown was nothing like my body.

Before, you could say I was alright; healthy even. Now, I was a lean Hercules, with muscles carved out of marble and sheer testosterone.

I flexed an arm experimentally, and was pleased at the result.

"Best damn hospital stay I ever did," I muttered half-heartedly, before leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

… So, I was Spider-Man now.

I wouldn't say it was a choice, honestly. With great power comes great responsibility. I got to hear those words more than once from the mouth of the great Uncle Ben himself more than once, when I tried to get Peter to flex his intellect or when I got in trouble for beating the ever-loving crap out of some bullies that tried to pick on Peter and I.

With great power comes great responsibility. The measure of a man is in what he does with power. Nobility obligates.

The idea is the same, and it's one that I've believed in for some collective thirty-one years.

…this was gonna suck. But maybe I wouldn't have to do it alone. God knows I can't design my own web-shooters.

Peter wasn't going to be Spider-Man if I had any say in it, but I wasn't too proud to ask a friend for help.

Speak of the devil, Peter walked in and smiled brightly upon seeing me awake.

"Jake! You're up!"

"Only halfway," I deadpanned, smirking with an internal frown. Shouldn't my sight be better now? Why the hell is everything more than a meter away still blurry?!

"Here," Peter handed me my glasses, and I nodded my thanks before asking what happened after I passed out.

"Well, after you went down, the tour guide panicked and hit a red button, while everyone else freaked out that the spider was still alive, so they jumped on anything that was even slightly off the floor."

"Including you?"

"Including me," he admitted shamelessly. "Eventually, scientists in hazmat suits came in and scanned the room. Turns out the spider died after it bit you."

"Did they splice it with bee DNA?"

"Hah, nah, I think it was the smack. Anyways, eventually an ambulance came around, the school called your parents –fat load of good that did," Peter added with a venomous tone. I swear the Parkers were the only people that liked my parents less than I did. "You were bed-ridden for three days, and Aunt May baked around five cakes and three batches of cookies to relax."

"Did it work?"

"She's making a sixth cake as we speak."

"Your aunt's a saint, Peter."

I smiled and leaned back. The thought of May's pastries waiting for me once I got back made it all worth it. I'd go back and swim in spiders- NOPE NO BAD THOUGHT CAN'T STOP PICTURING IT NOPE NUH-UH NOTHING IS WORTH THAT.

I rubbed my forehead. "So, can you call a doctor or something? I'm eager to get the fuck out of here and into your kitchen."

"Oh, right!" he rushed off to do that. When he was gone, I experimentally put my fingertips flat on a glass vase on the table next to my bed, and lifted without grabbing.

Unsurprisingly, the vase stuck. I small movement of my fingers, and the vase fell back on the table.

Oh well, at least it seemed I wouldn't have to deal with the obligatory 'discovering my new powers' scene. I always hated those.

 **/ E\\\\\**

I gorged myself on lemon pie and chocolate chip cookies (a surprisingly good combination) as Ben poked me and chuckled. "Two days in the hospital and you come out looking good as new. Healthcare really improved since my day."

"Give it a while," I joked after forcing down the food with a glass of orange juice. "I'm sure it'll get screwed up again the next time someone that wasn't hospitalized by a million-dollar company gets hurt."

Ben shrugged with cynical humor and May scowled. "I still can't believe they think they can just hurt you like that and do nothing!"

"They paid for my treatment. Granted, it was probably so that they could steal my blood and test it to see what happened after the spider bit me, but still." I shrugged, reaching for another cookie and waved it over to Peter. "Can you help me with whatever homework I missed, by the way?"

"Sure, you only missed Friday, anyways." Peter grabbed a piece of 'Chocotorta' (a recipe I introduced to May, I'm proud to say) and scarfed it down. He tried to speak with his mouth full, but a look from May and a kick under the table from me got him to swallow before continuing.

"Flash was a dick about you being sick. He spent the whole day making impressions of you getting bit and passing out, like he'd do better."

I shrugged. "Flash will be Flash. It's only to be expected."

Ben smiled proudly at me. "Well said, Jake."

"Plus, I can always kick his ass if he gets too annoying."

"Never mind," Ben sighed, shaking his head.

I chuckled, Peter laughed, May tittered, and Ben smirked with fondness.

The Parkers… they were family. More than family ever was. My parents were extremely Anti-Mutant, fairly sexist, and severe workaholics. I was Pro-Mutant to the point that I once threw a bottle at a cop in a protest, I once knocked out someone that was harassing a girl in school, and I was reasonably independent.

We had an unspoken agreement of minimizing contact until I was eighteen and could leave. Or at least I think we did. Like I said, it was unspoken.

Eventually, we headed to the basement, where we usually hung out. It's also where Peter's lab was.

I waited until May and Ben left for the living room, then I turned to look at Peter and spoke with all the seriousness I could muster.

"Pete, I need your help."

"Uh, yeah, I was just about to get my-"

"Not that! I need your help with something way more important than History homework."

"What is it?" Peter looked concerned. I guess I was being a bit dramatic.

I took a deep breath, walked over to the table, put my fingers flat against the paper there, and lifted my hand.

Nothing happened.

"Uh, hold on, I got it right before," I said quickly and embarrassed. I pressed my fingers hard again, and tried to think of it as lifting everything, not just my hand.

The paper stuck to my fingers.

"So that's how that works. I should keep it in mind." I thought out loud, before stretching my hand to show Peter.

"So… you've got sticky fingers?" He asked, pulling the paper and looking surprised when he got it with five holes in it.

"No, I don't think so," I walked over to the wall, kicking off my shoes on the way, and put a hand on the basement wall. Experimentally, I put the other hand above it and one foot on the wall. Slowly, with decreasing hesitation, I performed my first wall-crawl, and kept going until I was upside down and facing Peter.

We stared at each other in silence until I broke it.

"I think it'd be fair to blame this one on the spider."

"Agreed," whispered Peter.

 **/ E\\\\\**

After a while, we were doing our homework. I was sitting on the wall in a squat, because I couldn't exactly sit cross-legged and have my feet touch the wall at the same time. It was strangely relaxing, to relax in surfaces man was not supposed to sit on.

"So, what's next?"

"Hmm?" I was trying to recall what the teacher said about the French Revolution, so I barely paid attention to the question.

"What are you going to do with your powers?" Peter insisted. I capped my pen, left it in my closed notebook, and dropped it on his table.

"I guess I'll be a superhero," I shrugged.

"You don't seem enthused about the idea."

I shrugged again. Peter frowned at me as I stood up and stretched my back, letting loose a few popping sounds.

"I don't really see what else I'm supposed to do. I got powers and I'm not _that_ evil, so I guess I'll be a hero." I walked down the wall and back onto the floor. "With great power comes great responsibility, you'll recall."

"Yeah, but you could do some more stuff!" Peter stretched a hand towards the washing machine I had lifted with one arm. "You're super strong, right? Why not be a wrestler or something?"

"So my options are to put on a mask and beat up other masked guys in the streets, or do the same thing on a cage?" I asked dryly, with an eyebrow raised. "I think I'll take the one that gives me a lot of space, thanks."

Peter crossed his arms and huffed. I scratched my head, wondering how I should phrase my request, before settling on being direct.

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with this whole… hero thing?"

"What."

"Uh, see, I had this thought that you could, maybe, if you found the time, build a pair of-uh web-shooters? You know, that go on my wrist? That way I could move around New York easily?" I rambled through my explanation, eyes firmly planted on my feet.

"I… Jake, I…" Peter started, before sighing, and massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "I'll cover for you if this is what you're set on, but I can't go around building your stuff. I'm not gonna be your 'guy in the chair' or whatever. I… what if someone tracks me? What if someone tracks me back to May and Ben? I can't…"

And suddenly, I was struck with how incredibly selfish I'd been. I frowned, making Peter stop talking (I'd been told I have a hell of a glare) before I strode forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not gonna force you on this, Pete," I forced a smile, which probably came off as creepy. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I was being selfish."

Relieved, Peter sighed and returned a weak smile. "It's okay. Honestly, it'd probably be cool to be your 'guy in the chair', but…"

"I know," I punched his shoulder softly, although it pulled a grimace from him, so I apologized and promised to control my new strength, before adding, "I should be getting home, anyways. Take care, Pete."

"You too, Webster," he smirked, until he saw the face of utter disgust that graced my face. "Bad name?"

"Let's go with Spider-Man for now, hm?" I said with a strained smile on my lips.

"Oh, that's better."

 **/ E\\\\\**

I put the two cakes that May forced me to take home in the fridge and the jar of cookies that I snuck past Ben in the pantry, before making my way into my room.

… I think that, in all honesty, I was always sorta prepared to do this. Peter's one of those people that you either love unconditionally or hate on sight, and the little bastard got under my skin pretty much as soon as I saw him.

When I learned his name, and when I figured out what universe we were in shortly after… I always tried to push Peter to be his best, and he returned the favor. I always looked after him when bullies attacked, and he always helped me when school or people proved to be too much for the day.

… I wasn't going to ask for help with Spider-Business again. I could just parkour through the city.

He could do great without getting into any of the problems that came with the webbed mask. He would do great.

Peter looked after me, and I was gonna return the favor, any way that I could.

I put on a ratty old blue hoodie and a balaclava, before taking to the rooftops.

Spider-Man was starting today.

 **/ E\\\\\**

"SOMEONE HELP! PLEA- uff!" The lady's screaming was cut off by a fist to the stomach by the brute trying to snatch away her purse.

"C'mon man, we gotta hurry!" the brute's accomplice hurried him up, looking nervously for cops.

"I would, if this bitch would just. _Let. GO!_ " With a final pull, he got the purse.

For all of two seconds before a foot fell on his face and broke his nose, making him drop the purse in shock.

"Didn't your mother teach you to treat girls nicely?"

Oh man, I bet you could just _hear_ the smirk in my voice. I grabbed the purse off the ground, and with great flourish, I presented it to the lady.

"Sorry I didn't catch it before it hit the ground, miss."

"… _That's fine._ " She whispered, clearly shocked and scared.

"Don't worry, I'm friendly," I winked, though the gesture was probably lost under the balaclava and the hood. I walked around her and glared at the other criminal. "Well, most of the time, I'm friendly."

He pulled a pocket knife from, well, his pocket, and aimed it at me inexpertly. "W-watch it, freak! I'm not afraid to use this!"

"Oh no, a tiny knife, _my only weakness_ ," I said dryly, rolling my head along with my eyes for added dramatic flair. I looked over my shoulder at the lady and pointed my thumb at the crook, like I was saying ' _can you believe this guy?_ ' which got a surprised giggle from her.

The crook rushed me, and suddenly it was like I was hyper-aware. It was startling, but somehow that didn't stop me. It was like I was seeing the world through a lens that clarified everything, but also like I was looking through a tube?

Everything was clear and easy to understand, but at the same time, I was super-focused in something.

My Spidey-Sense, I'd found, was pretty weird, but pretty awesome.

As the crook rushed me, knife in his right hand, I used my left one in a relaxed move, pushing the knife hand away to the left, grabbing it when it wasn't aimed in my direction anymore, and using it to throw the guy against the wall.

The air left him forcefully, and he fell on the ground in a groaning mess.

"Well then!" I brushed my hands off in a satisfied manner, before putting them on my hips and turning to look at the lady. "If you'd be so kind as to call the police and tell them that this was a service from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, that'd be wonderful!"

"Wait! What if they get back up again?"

Hm, she had a point. Luckily, there was a readily available solution in the alley.

I put them both in dumpster and smashed it closed.

"If a few cops team up, they should be able to open it," I said to her cheerfully, before I jumped off the dumpster and into a wall, holding myself up with just my hands. I turned back, gave the lady a two-finger salute and a wish of good luck getting home, before climbing out of the alley and running out.

That'd been my third take-down of the night.

Wanna know the upside of New York being a criminal hive of scum and villainy? No shortage of petty criminals to try myself against.

The next month and few weeks went like that. Basically just me running around whatever parts of New York I found myself in that night, looking for crime to stop. My schoolwork wasn't too affected, as I was already an insomniac and running around was actually making me sleep better, in one of those funny twists of fate.

The only downside was that I did get a few headaches from going around without my glasses. Other than that, everything was great.

Of course, it didn't last and everything changed.

 **/ E\\\\\**

I was making one of my usual runs through New York's rooftops (and I got to admit, it felt pretty cool to be able to say that) when I stopped for a break in front of a store. I'd saved the owner, Vito, from a robbery a few days ago, so he gave me a discount on juice, soda and candy.

Vito was officially my favorite New York store owner after he did that.

I was enjoying a couple of gummy worms and a can of Coke on the wall facing the store, with my shoes on the roof and my can nested between my legs, when I saw a familiar face enter the store.

Ben was smiling and laughing with Vito, probably something about May sending him to buy yogurt at the ass-crack of the night. Then I saw another person approach the store, a guy in a ratty grey hoodie (not that I was in any place to judge) and a mysterious object poking out of his pocket.

'Oh shit,' I thought, slightly detached, as the man entered the store and looked around, 'This is the part where Uncle Ben dies.'

It took me two seconds to get down from the wall and start running across the street towards that fucker.

In those two seconds, the man had pulled his gun and was waving it around. Vito was saying something confidently, but Ben had That Look on his face. The same Look he got when he was about to get serious with someone.

He took a step forward, but I was already there, slamming the door open.

They all turned to look at me: the owner with a smug smile, the robber with shocked wide eyes, and Ben with something I couldn't place.

Growling, I stalked forward. "You picked the wrong store and the wrong night to be you, buddy."

He pointed the gun and shot, but I wasn't there anymore, having taken a step to the side between him aiming and him pulling the trigger. Spidey-Sense was awesome like that.

I kept walking forward, and he walked backwards.

Then I realized that he had grabbed Ben and had a gun to his neck. I stopped and actually took a step back, _like a fucking amateur!_

"Heh, not so tough now, eh?" the robber gave me a smug smile, and I had to hold myself back from rushing over and breaking his teeth by looking at Ben's eyes.

I… I had nothing but admiration for Ben Parker. He was to me in this life what my father had been to me in my former life: a figure that seemed eternal in its sardonic smiles, constant joking, and confident swagger.

I saw none of that in Ben's eyes. He was scared, and so was I.

But then his eyes focused on me, and his fear melted away. He grinned at me.

"Don't worry about me, kid. Show this punk what for!"

Ben Parker is the most amazing old man you'll ever meet in your fucking life. Don't forget that.

"Yeah, what he said, Spidey," Vito said, pulling a shotgun and putting it to the robber's head from the side, effectively getting Ben out of danger. "Don't worry about him."

Vito is also really cool. Don't forget that either.

The robber, thinking annoyingly quickly, pushed Ben forward with the hand holding the gun, while he grabbed Vito's shotgun and pulled it upwards, aiming it away from him.

While that happened, I took my chance and rushed forward. I jumped over Ben's head as he still stumbled forward, landed right behind him, and was about to rush forward when a gunshot rang through the store.

A stinging line of pain crossed my hip, but my eyes were focused behind me, where the bullet had landed.

There, on Ben Parker's back, was a hole right on his spine, from where blood was flowing freely. Ben stood for a second before he crumbled forward.

We all stood in shocked, horrified silence. Then I snapped.

I… I wish I could say I can't recall the next few moments. That I saw red came back to reason later.

No. The ensuing beatdown was performed while perfectly lucid and aware of my actions and their consequences.

I rushed forward faster than the _scum_ could blink, grabbed him by the neck, and smashed him against the floor hard enough to break tiles. I punched him, over and over _and over and over again_.

Soon, the entire front of my glove was covered in red, and the robber's face was unrecognizable. And yet I couldn't stop. Not even though Vito was screaming my name.

No, not my name, he was yelling out for Spider-Man. I didn't deserve the name. I was a fraud, a failure, I got Ben killed he was dying because I failed I failed I failed I-

"Jake."

And like that, I stopped. I looked behind me and saw Ben pushing himself up to look at me over his shoulder.

"Let him go, son. We've more important things to do."

I didn't bother questioning how he knew. The man had been caring for me since I wore diapers, he could recognize me with a stupid balaclava on.

I nodded to Vito and apologized after he called two ambulances and the police, but he shrugged it off and said that I wasn't the only idiot with anger issues in the world.

He gave me a free can of soda and sent me home; saying that he'd make sure everything went smoothly.

I still sat on the roof looking over the store, watching as Vito cared for Ben and the _bastard_ that shot him.

I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking, not even as I lay in bed, thinking about Ben's immobile legs as he was carried in a stretcher to the ambulance.

 **/ E\\\\\**

I was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, tapping my foot nervously with my hands crossed and holding my head.

I was staring at a fixed point in the floor, listening to nothing but my rushing thoughts and the tapping of my foot.

 _Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-ta-_

"Sir?" I jumped as a nurse touched my shoulder gently. "You're bothering the others. I understand you're anxious, but please try to keep calm."

I nodded and offered a forced smile before going back to staring at the floor and twitching in place, hands now crossed on my lap. I softly whispered "Sorry," which seemed good enough for her, as she walked away.

"… _He's probably a teenage father,_ " a woman stage-whispered to the man sitting next to her (her husband, if the matching rings were any indication), giving me a side eye and smirking under her hand, " _Should've used protection if he was gonna be this annoying._ "

"My uncle was shot." I replied loudly, making sure everyone that was pretending not to hear her couldn't pretend not to hear me. I looked her dead in the eye and glared as hard as I could. "I'm sorry if my worrying for my family is inconvenient for whatever the fuck you're doing in a hospital, you cock-sucking bitch-goblin."

I get creative when I'm pissed.

The woman sputtered, but I wasn't paying attention to that. May and Peter came through the door, and I was rushing over to give May a hug as fast as I could without giving away my powers (and I wasn't that hard to be discreet).

"How is he?" I whispered into the embrace. The question wasn't aimed to anyone in particular, but it was obvious that it'd fall on Peter to answer, since May was crying on my shoulder.

"… The doctor said he'll live, but…" Peter glared at nothing, fists balled up and shaking in anger. "The bullet went straight into his spine. He'll never walk again."

May wailed into my shoulder, and I tried not to let my anger get to me. She wasn't young; she couldn't take me squeezing like an idiot because I was pissed off.

Gently, I guided her to a chair, where I took her hands and promised we'd be right back, we were just going to get a cup of coffee.

Peter followed me as I put a few bills in the machine and served a hot cocoa and two coffees into three small Styrofoam cups. I handed Peter one of the coffee ones and made to get May her coffee, when Peter spoke.

"This is my fault," he whispered, glaring at his coffee like it was the source of all his problems.

Frowning, I left the cups on top of the coffee machine and put both hands on my friend's shoulders. "Pete, you couldn't have-"

"Don't tell me that!" Peter hissed, glaring up at me and taking a step out of my reach, before going back to glaring at his coffee. "You asked me for help. You asked me for webshooters, and I said no. If you had had some, you could have taken away the gun, but I didn't make them!"

"You had a right to. You could've been putting your family in danger if you had-"

"My family is in danger anyways, Jake! Uncle Ben got shot, Aunt May's heart broken, and you…" He hiccupped, and I realized he was crying. "You asked me for help, and I refused, even though I knew you'd go out anyways."

"You're not responsible for me being an idiot, Peter."

"Yes, I am." He threw the cup in the trash and grabbed me by the shirt. "I figured out the webshooters five minutes after you left, because the idea wouldn't leave my head. We'll see what we can do for your suit when we get home."

I thought about stopping him. But I knew Peter better than that. I didn't want him involved in anything as dangerous as being Spider-Man; but nothing could stand between a Parker and whatever they desired. I speak from experience.

"Fine," I sighed, before giving him a stern look and putting a finger to his chest. "But we set a few ground rules. Number one, you're tech support, and _only_ tech support; and _maybe_ also my guide, if strictly necessary.

"Number two, no running yourself ragged trying to help me out. Keep the tools in tip-top shape, fix the suit, and that's it. You still have a life, and so do I. We'll have to keep a balance.

"Number three…" I thought about it, before settling on it. "If something happens to me, don't do something stupid like making spider powers for yourself and running around to carry my mantle. If Spider-Man dies, he dies. Understood?"

He grimaced at the last part, probably realizing as I did that it was the kind of noble, stupid thing he'd do, before nodding.

"Good," I stepped back and grabbed the cooled beverages, "Let's go keep May company first, though. We've left her waiting long enough."

 **/ E\\\\\**

Three days after that, I had webshooters. It took a while to get used to them, but I have to admit, I understood why they always whooped with joy in the movies when they did it for the first time.

Do you have any idea what a rush it gives you to jump out of a building with only a string to keep you safe, then letting go and having to trust your Spidey-Sense to aim the next shot?

Of course you don't. So you'll have to take my word and accept that it's freaking amazing.

A few days after getting my webshooters, Ben came out of surgery and arrived home in a wheelchair to a ramp I helped build and a cake I helped decorate.

He didn't say a word about the incident. Not anything that involved me, anyways. He didn't even send me a knowing look throughout the party.

Unless he did send a knowing look and I missed it. That would me typical of me.

And, five weeks after that, I got my suit.

Peter and I had had several disagreements over the designing process, and getting the materials, even with the savings I started keeping when I was six.

(Nine years of allowance, mowing lawns, shoveling snow, and cleaning windows, gone just like that. My inner Orange Lantern was screaming at me the whole time (DC references in my Spider-Man adventure, that's like… being a nerd squared! Wait, math reference in my comic book reference in my comic book adventure, that's being a nerd cubed!))

The suit was made as a mix from my two favorite suits, with a few of my own touches thrown in.

The design was mostly classical Spider-Man, except with the blue parts in a darker shade, and the red parts changed to black. I justified it as being better for stealth while not being overly threatening. I honestly did it because it's my favorite color combination

The spider symbol on the chest was like the one from the original movie, except it and the webs that came from it where white.

The mask was different than the original, though. It had no webs on it, and the lenses were surrounded by white circles. It was inspired by Spider-Gwen's own mask, and so was the hood that went with the body of the suit.

The webs bent around the neck, to go on the inside of the hood, which was a brighter shade of blue. There were also webs on the outside of the hood, unlike with Spider-Gwen's. The webs on the outside were still white, while the ones on the inside were black.

Right now, I was standing in front of a full-body mirror that hung from the inside of my closet's door, wearing everything but the mask.

I looked down at said piece of headwear. Are masks headwear? I think they count.

Not important. I look back and saw my stupid, fifteen year old self wearing an OC-interpretation of the Spider-Man suit.

I looked, and saw myself. A bit taller and more muscular than I used to be, but it was still the same thin eyebrows, the same sharp blue eyes, the same messy brown hair, the same resting bitch-face, and the same impulse to make faces at the mirror to prove to myself that I can make faces.

… I was still the same me that let Ben get paralyzed.

I didn't feel like a hero, I felt like a dork wearing cosplay. I felt like a loser that talked himself into doing something insane. Like any second now, I'd realize I can't wall-crawl, or use my Spidey-Sense, or save anyone.

I felt like the mask was the last line between me and doing something completely stupid and suicidal.

My hands shook, and I thought about throwing it all to the garbage.

Then I put the mask on.

I have power because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have responsibilities because I chose to have them.

I will be Spider-Man, no matter what.

Because _nobility fucking obligates!_

I looked at myself in the mirror, and didn't see me.

I put on my hood and grinned under the mask.

I saw a hero.

 **/ E\\\\\** **/ E\\\\\** **/ E\\\\\**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: HOLY FUCKING SHIT!**

 **Okay now that that's out of my system, welcome to my story!**

 **This was made because... well, because Spidey's my favourite hero, and I always wanted to have adventures like him, but I couldn't bring myself to write him out.**

 **Also, I know it seems a bit contradictory that Jake makes a big deal out of not letting Peter get involved and then he lets Peter get involved, but the thing is, he's fifteen, scared shitless, and wants a familiar face.**

 **Honestly, I can't blame him. Mostly because he's based on me.**

 **Uh, anyways, leave a review, follow, and favorite my story! Or don't! I'm all about free will!**

 **PS: HOLY FUCKING SHIT; I WROTE 6,565 WORDS, NOT COUNTING THE AUTHOR'S NOTE!  
**

 **PPS: Those / E\\\\\ thingies were supposed to say BREAKLINE, but hates me.**


	2. Shocking, isn't it?

**Chapter #2: Shocking, isn't it?**

I first realized I was inhabiting what I used to believe was a fictional universe when I was six years old, and I opened my book on world history (a weird thing for a six year old to have, but not for a reincarnated one that was reborn in a different country and wanted to see things from a different perspective) on a random page, and found Steve Roger's gorgeous masked faced staring at me.

I proceeded to have a discreet freak out for the following week, before investing some more and finding I had no idea what to do.

I decided there probably wasn't much I _could_ do except help Peter be at his best.

Unfortunately, I didn't make sure _I_ was at my best, even though the possibility of me becoming Spider-Man had occurred to me; which is another donation I made to the 'Jake Fletcher is a moron' foundation.

However, I liked to think I was adjusting pretty well to the situation. Or at least that's what I thought myself as I swung throughout Manhattan, humming a song to myself while looking for crime.

" _Papa was a rolling stone_ ~" another web attached itself to the corner edge of a building and I swung to the left. " _Whe'ever he laid 'is hat, was his home_ ~"

Then, in the distance, I saw a few police cars gathered in front of a bank. I stopped to stand on a nearby wall and inspected the scene, pretending I knew what I was doing.

"Thirty hostages, five armed robbers," a nearby boy in blue conveniently explained to who looked to be his captain. "They haven't made any demands yet, but the negotiator will be here soon in case they do."

That's all I needed to hear. I'd seen this scenario plenty of times, so I knew that if I went to the roof of the building…

Yup, as I thought: there was an unlocked window that honestly didn't have a reason to be this easy to open right there over the bank's front doors.

I entered the building stealthily, with my hood up because I liked how scary it made me look at night (even if it was 04:27 in the afternoon) and crawled to the roof, where I sat upside-down to inspect the situation with my own eyes.

Like the cop said, five armed thugs, and a lot of hostages. And look at that, not a single one of the thugs was looking at the middle of the room. They were all standing in a circle with their backs to the middle, all looking towards the hostages, who'd been arranged in a circle around the robbers.

It was actually rather pleasantly symmetrical to look at from my point of view.

The robbers were talking amongst themselves (enhanced senses could be fun sometimes), but one of them was mostly quiet, unless pushed to talk.

There, a one-of-a-kind chance to play Batman.

I shot two web lines to his shoulders and pulled him up too quick for him to scream before I had my hand covering his mouth. I webbed his mouth shut, rolled him up in the stuff, and hung him from the ceiling. Um, not in the Wild West style of hanging someone. The cocoon made sure his full weight was held up. Peter and I made sure I knew how to do that.

I looked at some of the hostages that saw what I did and were looking at me, and put a finger to my lips and winked.

Most of them just looked down, but a couple nodded and one even winked back.

Yeah, I have _no idea_ how the whole 'expressive mask eyes' thing works. I figure thinking about it too hard might make it stop working, so I just accept it and move on.

Now, eventually one of the thugs would realize what was happening when they tried to talk to quiet boy, so…

"What about you, Wind? What're you gonna do with your millions?" the chattiest one made to nudge quiet boy (or Wind, apparently) and found nothing. As he turned to look, I snatched another one the same way I took 'Wind' and hung him from the ceiling.

Sheesh, that sounds really bad when you're a Clint Eastwood fan. I need to think of a better term. Cocooned him? That could work.

"Hey, where did Wind go?" as the other two robbers turned to look, I snatched the one furthest to my left and cocooned him as well.

And then there were two. They realized all their friends were missing, and started pointing their guns around, asking the hostages if they saw anything. I noticed a few made to point up, but before anyone could ruin the moment, I put two webs on Chatty Cattie's friend's shoulders, made sure he saw them and looked up to find me hanging upside down, surrounded by his cocooned friends, let him scream, then pulled him up and knocked him out with a punch to the side of his head.

Chatty Cattie had turned around when he heard the scream, but not fast enough to see his friend get pulled up. His hands were shaking, and my enhanced senses picked up on the smell of his sweat as I silently crawled down the wall to walk up right behind him, lean in, and whispered.

" _Are you scared?_ "

The high-pitched scream put a spring in my step for the next week.

 **/ \\\\\**

I was in the middle of punching a gigantic pumpkin with spider legs while wearing a cape made of Marvel comics, when someone shouted my name and I jumped awake.

"Mister Fletcher," my science teacher repeated, this time more calmly, since she saw I was awake. "Perhaps you can tell me what it is about my class that you found so boring you fell asleep in the middle of it?"

I yawned and shook my head to wake up completely. I'd spent too much time webbing around Manhattan the night before (even by my standards), but I wasn't about to tell her that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," I muttered. She huffed and continued the class, and I struggled to stay awake for the rest of it. Peter sent me worried looks the whole time.

Later, at the cafeteria, I struggled to stay awake as I poked my potatoes.

"Dude, I told you about getting home early."

"I know," I grumbled. "New York is so full of crime, dude. No one should live here."

I rubbed my eyes and sipped the cup of instant coffee. Luckily, I'd seen all of this coming the night before and put several bags of instant coffee and a travel mug in my bag, so I was gonna be only slightly fucked up until I ran out.

Flash bumped my head into my potatoes, but I barely noticed, and that seemed to annoy him, as he left immediately after.

I pulled my head out and sighed. "I get the feeling that today is just gonna get longer and longer."

And it did.

 **/ \\\\\**

It was a fucking relief to be Spider-Man again. Being Jake was getting to be more and more tiring, what with holding back my strength and hyperawareness, being tired and bruised for my masked escapades, and all that effort put into hiding my superhero identity.

Being Spider-Man, on the other hand, was amazing. No rules, no hiding, and I got to take a nap whenever.

I was sitting on some random Manhattan roof, watching the twilight and eating a hot dog with my mask half pulled up.

"Hm, it's the little things," I muttered, sighing happily. Of course, my expression soured when I heard someone scream for help. I tossed my hot dog into a trash can, and jumped on the face of the mugger that tried to get an early start on going to jail.

My day only got better from there.

 **/ \\\\\**

My back slammed against a locker, and I glared up at Flash.

"What's the matter, Fletcher? Gonna fight back?"

I'd done it before. I would've loved to do it again. But I couldn't be sure that I'd be able to keep a lid on my powers. Impotently, I watched the fucker laugh and walk away, before I sighed and helped Peter out of the trash can that Flash shoved him in.

"Sorry, Pete," I said, looking down in shame.

"It's okay, if you fought back, you'd probably break his jaw." Peter dusted off his dorky sweater vest and punched my shoulder playfully. "Hey, May's making lasagna tonight. I'm sure there'll be enough for you."

"Considering I eat at your place all the time, it's very likely." I said, smiling slightly.

 **/ \\\\\**

"So, just for the record, this was my first fight against a true-blue super villain," I commented, poking Shocker and watching him swing slightly. "I'm kinda new to this; would you say I did alright? I know I'm not very good with banter, but I think I make up for it with stealth and surprise take-downs."

Shocker stared at me for a while, before doing his best to shrug while cocooned and upside-down. "Well, banter's not all that important. I fought Daredevil, and the guy's all business. As for the actual fight, I'd say you did pretty well. You're a pro at dodging; every time I aimed you were already moving."

"Thanks! I call it my Spidey-Sense, although it's really a mix of hyper-awareness and enhanced senses. It lets me know I'm in danger even if I don't consciously realize it."

"Damn, wish I had something like that."

"Eh, I think you do pretty well with what you have."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem."

I left that alley with a sense of pride in myself and a new friendly enemy. He even indulged me and shouted "I'll get you, Spider-Man!" as I left.

What a guy, eh?

 **/ \\\\\**

I glared at my homework and at the big red letters decorating it.

"'Do it over'," I read, hands shaking with anger. I was pacing around the ceiling of Peter's basement, waving around the piece of homework. "What does she mean 'do it over'?! Should I do it _all_ over?! Should I do _some of it_ over?! Why do I have to do it over?! Does she think Math is the only subject I have to deal with?! This is bullshit!"

"Dude, calm down," Peter said, looking up at me. "You know Mrs. Green is super strict about homework."

"Screw her, then." I jumped out of the roof and pulled off my shirt and hoodie, revealing my supersuit underneath. "I'm going out; I've got better things than school to do."

I pulled my mask from my bag and left my pants with the rest of my civilian clothes in the corner, before crawling out a window and web-slinging away.

I could probably find someone that needed a beating in no time.

 **/ \\\\\**

God dammit! For weeks, nothing but baddies popping up left and right and left and right, but now that I need the stress-relief, nothing?!

I needed to calm down. I took a few steadying breaths, stretched my back, and started thinking.

Now, I'd been changing my patrol route every time I went out, which is a nice way of saying that I was just going wherever I felt like going at the moment without a plan in mind.

At the moment, I didn't exactly feel like screwing around until trouble found me. I'd go out and find it for once.

And that meant going to Hell's Kitchen.

The trip was mercifully short, and it was interesting to see the quality of buildings decline steadily until I reached the neighborhood itself.

I took a look around. Let's see, if I were criminal scum, were would I be?

"Please, no! I have a family!"

Ah, probably over there.

I rushed over, eager to have something to do.

Within a few hours, I was feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. Hell's Kitchen had no shortage of gangbangers to beat up, and I enjoyed myself immensely swinging around and announcing my arrival in each alley with a kick to a crook's face.

I wasn't worried about running into Daredevil. After his identity was made public, ol' Matt Murdock hung up the mask and dedicated himself to full-time lawyering.

"Maybe I should pass around here more often," I mused out loud, watching cops take away the latest dealer I'd found. "Keep the law and order in Murdock's place."

I swung away, deciding to give the idea some thought on a later occasion. At the moment, I had another problem: every dealer I found, I asked where they got his stuff, and what the person that gave it to them was like.

I'd been doing it for a while, and seemed to reach the top with this guy, Alex Grace. My latest whistleblower had mentioned a detailed about him that made me want to rush over to deal with him as soon as possible.

Apparently, Mister Grace enjoyed the company of… _younger_ girls.

We'd see if he enjoyed anything after I was through with him.

 **/ \\\\\**

I knocked on the window, trying to ignore the smell of smoke. Downside to enhanced senses: stoners are twice as bad company.

I had nothing against Marihuana, but still, you try to be around them with twice the smelling capacity.

Eventually, after plenty of knocking, someone opened the window.

"Hello?"

"Howdy!" I smiled and hoped it came across through the mask. "Is a mister Alex Grace here?"

"Nah man, he lives next door." He leaned out the window and pointed to the next window.

"Oh, I see. Thanks a lot, mister!"

"No problem, bug man."

I considered explaining that spiders weren't bugs, but I figured I shouldn't bother. Instead, I walked over to the next window and knocked.

A man wearing sunglasses, a clean white shirt, a black tie, and a holster with a gun in it opened almost immediately.

"Yes?"

"Is this the residence of one Alex Grace?"

"Yeah, who's asking?"

Instead of answering right away, I jumped as far as I could from the wall, before shooting webs on both sides of the windows and using them to slingshot me through the window.

I smashed feet-first into the guy, and used him as a skateboard to take me to the middle of the living room. I found myself surrounded on all sides by men with guns, and grinned.

"I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

I jumped and clung to the ceiling half a second before the first bullet flew. I grabbed one of the thugs with a web shot, pulled him towards me, and knocked him out with a punch before jumping out of the way of the re-aimed guns.

All of that in a few seconds.

I repeated the process a few times, taking them out one at a time before I was done.

Or, well, I was done with the room, at least. I could hear someone rushing out in the hallway.

I kicked the door down and saw the back of someone in a dark green bodysuit, who was shouting for another someone to 'hurry the fuck back to the safe house'. I ran after him, shooting a web to his back and pulling.

When the guy was in reach, I punched him into the ground without breaking stride and used another web to send me rushing forward.

There, punching the call button for the elevator repeatedly was the one and only Alex Grace.

Since his back was still to me, I made sure my hood was on and throwing shadow on my face.

I wanted Alex to remember the lesson I was about to give him for the rest of his sad, pathetic life, and I was going to need the full dramatic effect for that.

I kept walking, and without stopping, I used a web to rush him to me.

I grabbed him by the neck, stalked forward, and smashed him against the elevator doors.

"Hello there, Alex," I glared through my mask, and if the stain on his pants was any indication, my feelings made themselves clear. "Maybe you haven't heard of me, I'm Spider-Man. Now, I don't usually listen to gossip, but a little birdie told me you supply every dealer in Hell's Kitchen, isn't that right?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh? Is that right? Then perhaps you know about something else I heard?" I let Alex go and leaned in so he could see his eyes reflected in my lenses. "It's _very_ important, Alex. You need to be honest with me."

"I-I swear I'll tell you the truth! I know everything that goes on in this neighborhood! What do you need? Guns? Women? Anything!"

"I need to know if something else a little bird told me is true." I gently laid a hand on his shoulder. I spoke with a teasing tone. "I heard you have a taste for, uh… _younger_ company?"

A smile bloomed on Alex's face. "Is that all? Sure, I can get you-"

Before he could say another fucking word, I punched him on the face so hard I heard a ' _crack_ '.

"I'm glad you confirmed that for me, Alex." I cracked my knuckles and used a web to get him to stand up. "It means I get to teach you a valuable lesson about what happens when monsters like you touch kids in my city."

I leaned in and whispered in his ear.

" _They meet the bigger, badder monster. In other words: me._ "

I punched him in the stomach so hard I lifted him, and I was ready to continue, when I heard an awkwardly cheerful ' _ding_ ' behind me. I turned to see the elevator was open, right before my Spidey-Sense started ringing at full force and told me to jump away.

I did so just in time to avoid getting hit by lightning.

"Mr. Grace, go! I'll take care of this freak!"

Several things happened at the same time. I realized that the guy in the green bodysuit appeared to suddenly be made of electricity, and thus, was probably Electro. My Spidey Sense started ringing at me again, but I was too surprised to react immediately. Alex made for the elevator. I was hit by lightning.

Anyone that has been electrocuted before can tell you that it's fucking awful. I screamed in agony and found myself suddenly face down in the ground, groaning as my every muscle burned.

"Look, I get it," Electro said, his voice oddly distorted. "Everyone hates pedophiles, even me. But the big boss wants Grace running his narcotics business, and what the big boss wants, he gets."

"Big… boss?" I groaned, slowly moving my hands under me and trying to push myself onto my feet. I didn't manage much success outside of getting my hands under me.

"Yeah, the new kingpin of crime. You chose a hell of a way to start trouble." I barely managed to move my neck in time to see Electro aim a shining hand pointed at me. "Not very bright, but pretty flashy, I'll give you that."

A small, detached part wondered if the puns were on purpose. Then the energy in his hand started building up, and my Spidey-Sense started ringing like crazy.

For a single, horrible second I realized I could easily die here. Just like that. One burst of energy and goodbye Spidey.

Adrenaline flooded my veins, and I managed to find the strength to throw myself to the side.

It felt like my brain was going five miles a second. I shot two webs, one to a vase, and one to the floor a little ways up the hallway. I threw the vase at Electro's head and used the other one to pull myself forward until I was next to a window. I promptly jumped out of it and shot blindly, somehow getting lucky and swinging into an alley, where I landed roughly.

I lay completely still; looking at the window I'd just crashed through. Electro looked out of it, but the poor illumination in Hell's Kitchen played to my advantage, as he seemed to find nothing. He walked away, but I didn't dare move for a few minutes.

Then I curled up in a ball and started crying, my sobs unnoticed amongst the miscellaneous noises of New York at night.

 **/ \\\\\**

I stumbled into the Parker's front porch. I'd left my suit in my closet, noticing it was slightly burnt, and that it'd need repairs if I wanted to use it again.

' _Pretty damn big 'if' there, Jake,_ ' I thought to myself.

(I'd later realize that was the first time in a long time I thought of myself as 'Jake'.)

I knocked on the door, and I heard soft footsteps approaching, before May opened the door and gasped when she laid eyes on me.

"Jake! What on earth happened to you? Who did that to your eye?"

When I landed on the alley, I got myself a pretty nasty black eye.

"Hey May," I said softly, looking down at her slippers. "Is Ben awake? I think I need some advice."

She nodded, and gestured for me to wait inside. I sat on the couch, staring down at my hands. Eventually, I heard a wheelchair rolling in. I turned to look at Ben, and nodded at him. He returned the gesture and stopped next to my couch, staring directly ahead while I went back to looking at my hands.

Eventually, I located my nuts and gathered the courage to speak, even if he might be disappointed in me.

"You know what I do at nights, right?"

"I suspected at the store, but you just confirmed it, so yeah," Ben said, still not looking at me.

"… Sorry I couldn't protect you, Ben. I tried, but…"

"There's nothing to apologize about. You did your best."

"… _My best's not enough_." I whispered, putting my knees up to rest my forehead on them.

"What's that?"

"My best wasn't enough, Ben." I tightened my hold on my knees and frowned. "As a matter of fact, my best is pretty fucking terrible.

"I tried my best, and you got paralyzed. I try my best, and I can barely manage to function as a person outside the mask.

"I went out tonight and I found this guy, this monster that moved drugs and… he was a _pedophile_ , Ben, and I let him get away because I was stupid enough to let myself be caught off-guard."

"Jake-"

"And as if that wasn't enough, I now realize that if I hadn't let the guy get away, I would've probably killed him."

Ben was shocked into silence, and I kept it. I hadn't realized it until I said it, but now that it was out in the open the full force of my actions hit me head-on.

"Oh god," I let go of my knees and leaned back on the couch. "Ben, I was ready to kill that man. He was a monster but… I was ready to _take a life_ , Ben."

In an out-of-body sort of way, I realized my hands were shaking. "Ben… I put on the mask because I believe that with great power comes great responsibility, but what if I can't handle the responsibility? What if I go wild?"

I realized, a little late, that Ben had pulled me into a hug.

"Jake… I would've never told you that if I knew this is what it would do to you."

To hear that from Ben Parker was a little shocking, honestly.

"It's true that power brings responsibility, but there's more to life than the things you're responsible for.

"You can't just ignore the part of you that isn't… Webster or whatever he's called."

"Spider-Man," I muttered softly onto his shoulder.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is what you carry _here_ ," he poked at my chest. "This is the part of you that lectured _me_ about responsibility. This is the part of you that kept standing up for Peter whenever you could. This is the part of you that insists on pushing everyone you meet to be better."

"I don't do that."

"It's also the part of you that refuses to let people finish talking."

I let out a chocked-up laugh.

"The mask isn't what marks you as a hero. It's the fact that you got powers and instantly decided to be a hero that does."

"I still screwed it up."

"Then you do what everyone else does when they screw up. You pick yourself up, stick your chin out, and try again and again until you get it right."

"And if I go too far? If I end up killing someone doing what I think is right?"

"Jake, don't be silly. I raised you to be better than that."

… I don't remember how much time I spent crying on Ben's shoulder. Eventually, I fell asleep on the Parker's couch.

When I woke up, I knew what I was gonna do.

 **/ \\\\\**

"' _The new kingpin of crime_ ', he said?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup," I looked over his shoulder as he fixed up my suit. "I'm thinking there's someone settling in in Hell's Kitchen, and he's going to get the worst of the worst to take over the criminal side of New York."

"Also known as 90% of New York," Peter joked, cutting open a piece of my pants to make me some pockets. They'd need a zipper, but I'd manage.

"Right, that's why it'd be a bad thing if this guy got full control."

"So what are you going to do?"

"First off, I'm going to find Alex Grace and I'm going to kick him in the dick so hard he's gonna start pissing from the ear."

"Ew, gross, but okay."

"Then, I'm gonna start poking around, and I'm going to tear down this Kingpin's empire, brick by brick."

"In that case," Peter stopped working on my costume and turned to look at me, a serious expression on his face. "I'm going to need some more time."

"What'd you need it for?"

"I'm going to make some extra suits. You're going to get in serious fights, and you can't afford to lose momentum every time some asshole makes a rip that shows your boxers."

I smiled at him. "Thanks for putting up with me, Pete."

"Don't mention it," he smiled back.

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

 **/ \\\\\**

"I'm glad to see you're taking school seriously again, Mr. Fletcher." My teacher said, handing back my re-made essay. "This one was much better than your last attempt."

"I'm glad you think so, ma'am." I said with my best shit-eating grin.

It was the same exact thing I gave her earlier. Mrs. Green was full of shit when it came to correcting works. She just judged it based on how awake you looked when you handed it over. After that, at lunch, I ate quickly, except for the potatoes, which I threw in Flash's face when no one was looking.

Once all my classes were over and I took a few moments to ready myself, I suited up and headed for Hell's Kitchen at top speed.

I wanted to get there before the sun went down.

 **/ \\\\\**

"So this is all you know?" I asked; taking a hit of the blunt James handed me before I started coughing my lungs out. I have _enhanced senses_ , why did I do something so stupid?

"That's all we've got, man," confirmed Ace, giving me a helpless shrug and taking the joint after I offered it to her. "I wish we had more on that creepy bastard. Fuck, I always thought there was something off about him."

(Basic politeness rule for when hanging out with stoners, don't _take_ it. Wait for it to make the round. Don't ask how I know that.)

"So, what are you gonna do about him?" James, the would-be leader of the group, asked me. He was a tall black man, with Donald Duck tattooed on a bicep, and the kindest personality ever.

"I'm gonna find him, and then I'm gonna kick his ass." I stood up, grabbing a couple of Doritos for the way. "Thanks for the tips and the pot guys. If I gave you my number, could you let me know if you heard something?"

"Dude, you want us to snitch out for you?" asked Duke; speaking for the first time since I met him (which was like, five minutes ago).

"You don't have to if you don't wanna."

"Are you kidding? We get to be informants to a super-hero that came in through our window and smoked pot with us!" Duke now sported the biggest smile ever. "This is a dream come true!"

"Amen to that!" laughed James.

"You guys are the best." I said, before stuffing my face and getting ready to swing away.

"Give them hell, Spidey!" Ace yelled out as I left.

After I realized I was going to be Spider-Man, I briefly considered doing things like the one I knew did. But I know myself better than that. I could never manage to be like Peter in that way.

So, I was going about this my way: getting informants, going around interrogating people, and using fear as a weapon.

Kingpin was going down.

 **/ \\\\\**

It'd taken a long time, but I found Grace. As much as I wanted to _break_ the absolute monster, he was my only connection to the big man (hehehe, _big_ ) himself.

He was tapping his foot, waiting for his contact to appear. Unfortunately for him, said contact was on his way to the police station.

The sun had gone down hours ago, Grace was getting increasingly uncomfortable, and Electro was realizing something was probably wrong.

It was finally showtime.

One at a time, I broke the hanging lamp on the other side of the warehouse from the duo. Grace screamed, and Electro immediately powered up. I waited a second for tension to build, and then I broke the next lamp, making Grace scream again.

The lamps were the only source of light in the abandoned building. Thus, from their point of view, they only saw the building get increasingly dark, with only the sound of glass being smashed and shards falling to the floor to accompany it.

With increasing speed, I broke the lamps, one after another, until the only one remaining was the one hanging right above the duo's heads.

"It occurred to me," I shouted, letting my voice echo around, "That I never asked your name!"

"It's Electro!" my latest super villain replied, and I saw a little smirk under the electricity. Seems he appreciated the theatrics. "What about you, kid?"

I smashed the last light, and then jumped to land in front of them. Now the only source of light left was Electro himself.

"The name's Spider-Man." I dropped the broomstick I used to smash the lamps and jumped back to hide in the shadows. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Of course, Electro went right on the offensive, shooting a lightning bolt at the place where I just was.

Unfortunately for ol' lightning bolt, I was already moving.

My Spidey Sense was useful in a one-on-one fight, but it got too focused. It gave me tunnel vision. Outside of fights, I was aware of my surroundings perfectly, that's how I could web-swing across New York without turning into a splatter.

But against multiple opponents, I was going to be screwed. When I first attacked Grace, I jumped right on the thick of it, and made it out thanks to dumb luck and mook idiocy.

That's why this fight was going to stay between me and Electro.

So, when I noticed Grace was pulling a gun from the back of his pants, I snatched it away with a web line and stuck his feet to their place with two more webs.

"No, I think you'll have to sit this one out, Alex." I webbed his mouth shut before he could speak. "Don't worry, you'll get yours."

Electro shot another bolt at the place where the webs came from, not that I was there anymore. "You sound awfully confident, kid. Remember what happened last time?"

"Of course I do! That's why I did what everyone else does when they fail."

"And what's that?" he asked, amused.

His amusement lasted until I stuck a web to his shoulder, and dragged him in to punch him across the room.

"I got up…"

He pushed himself to his feet, just in time to get a web stuck to his back. Again, I dragged him towards me, and punched him across the room.

"I stuck my chin out…"

Another web, this one to his chest, which I used to pull him towards the ceiling, where I punched him back down.

"And I got ready to try again."

When he landed, Max rolled away and stumbled to his feet, shaken but not ready to give up. He exploded with energy, surrounding himself with so much electricity that I wouldn't be able to get close.

Lucky me, I saw an old locker while I was waiting for them to get here. I quickly picked it up and, before Electro could figure out what that sound of screeching metal meant, I lifted it over my head and threw it as hard as I could.

I only caught a glimpse of his face before the locker hit him, but it was hilarious.

Before it could land on him and squish his guts out, I grabbed it with a few webs and moved it away.

I was better than casual manslaughter.

"You okay there?"

A pained groaned that sorta sounded like 'no' came from the powered down version of Electro.

"You'll be fine. The police will take you to a hospital before they arrest you."

Now that Electro was out, nothing illuminated the building.

Still, my enhanced senses let me find Grace pretty easily.

The sound and smell of urine trickling down his pants onto the floor was unmistakable.

I grabbed his shoulder hard enough that I heard a pop, and leaned in to whisper in his ear from behind.

"I think you owe me a chat, Alex."

A few hours later, the police received a cocooned man with a dislocated shoulder who was ready to confess to every sickening thing he'd done, as long as he was kept far away from any spider-themed heroes.

 **/ \\\\\**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whew, that's a wrap.  
**

 **Now, Jake's going to be leading a one-man war against Kingpin. Not sure how long I wanna make it last, but it probably won't be very long.**

 **I realize as I write this that Jake doesn't do much to justify the story's title. I'll see about fixing that with the confrontation against Kingpin. Also, Jake's parents are gonna show up next chapter, because I can't just pretend they don't exist.**

 **Gotta cash in that sweet, sweet family drama.**

 **Well, thanks for reading my crappy story, and I guess I'll see you later!**


	3. Check

**Chapter #3: Check…**

I figured out that something was wrong about my universe a week after I realized what universe I was in. The Avengers, as a team, had been formed pretty much right after Captain America was born.

Um, I mean 'born' in the 'superhero origin' sense of the word. Not at the actual birth of Steve Rogers.

Not the point. The point is that the Avengers started way sooner, and that was just a drop of water in the bucket.

By the time I hit puberty, Carol Danvers had already gone through five supersuits (no relation), the Avengers had disbanded after the second Ant-Man's death, and the Inhumans had built a fucking Lego tower in the god damned Hudson River.

So, it was clear that what little I recalled about Marvel's insane timelines and multiple events wasn't going to be much help.

Some things that I remembered came to pass (Scott Lang's death, Daredevil's identity getting revealed, etcetera…) but not in the order they should have.

So, keeping things in a line in my head would do me no good. I had to remember individuals individually, and not for what they did with/to each other.

So, the question was, what did I do about a Wilson Fisk that came into the game far later than his fat ass had any right to?

Honestly, I didn't know jack about the guy, even before I took to the internet and found even less. Wilson Fisk came in one day and started a big media company. It was an instant success and he got filthy stinking rich pretty much overnight.

The only thing I got out of looking him up was knowledge of how much brown was on the collective noses of New York citizens. He was praised as an economical genius by practically everyone.

There were pictures of him shaking hands with Tony Stark after a merger between their companies, so the Avengers were either chewing the Idiot Ball or doing things covertly.

(Iron Man's identity as Tony Stark was public, by the way.)

I heard the front door opening and sighed, before closing my laptop and walking out of my bedroom. I headed for the kitchen as my mum made her way to the dining room, yelling at her phone all the way.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE SAYS, YOU TELL HIM THAT EITHER HE GETS THE PAPERWORK OR SO HELP ME GOD– hey Jake –I WILL RAIN DOWN MY FURY UPON HIS SKINNY ASS!"

Humming to myself, I put the pan with oil on the fire, and got the frozen Chinese rolls ready next to me as I the oil heated up.

After I got half a dozen prepared and mum got a glass of water for her sore throat, the door opened again and dad entered, laughing loudly.

"Now, now, I think you'll find that we can _both_ benefit from this deal!" he aimed the phone away to talk to me. "Couldn't you let your mother cook? You should be setting the table."

"She was busy threatening to rain down her fury. I'll set the table when I'm done."

"Right," he went back to his phone. "Hey, listen, how about you give me a call in half an hour, okay? I'm about to have dinner with my family."

"Listen, Randy," mum said from the table. "I'm going to eat dinner with my husband and my son. If you don't have the paperwork on my desk by the time I call you back, you're going to be out of a job so fast _you'll get whiplash_!"

I put down three plates, three glasses full of water, a basket full of Chinese rolls, and a bottle of soy sauce May got me the weekend before.

We ate in silence, for a while, before I decided I should give it a try.

"So, how're things with you guys?"

Immediately, the conversation went to hell.

"Terrible! You have no idea what a pain the governor is being about that bill I'm trying to push!"

"What bill?"

"The bill!" she said, as if I would suddenly understand if she yelled the exact same thing. "You know; the one with the X-Gene detectors in schools?"

"Ah, yeah, you never mentioned that to me." I took a sip of water.

"What do you mean I never mentioned it? I've been working on it since May!"

"The last time we had dinner together was April."

"Oh, right," she blinked, before going back to activist mode. "Well, it's very important! Students and teachers deserve to know if they have a ticking time bomb in their classroom!"

"Right. How about you, dad? Did anything interesting happen lately?"

"You bet! I'm _this_ close to closing a deal with Fisk Incorporated." He said, putting his fingers half an inch apart.

"Good for you," I nodded, before taking a bite out of my roll. Maybe I should try and talk him out of it?

Nah, he wouldn't listen to me.

Dinner was finished without further conversation, and they immediately headed out, to work or to meet friends, talking into their phones on the way out.

Rolling my eyes, I cleaned the table, washed the dishes, and suited up.

I had to meet up with some friends.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

I stood upside-down on the underside of a bridge, while James, Ace and Duke all gave me what info they got their hands on.

"Alright, this is good," I muttered, inspecting the list of names and addresses I got. "With this, I can start getting rid of Fisk's hold on the criminal side of things."

I jumped down and smiled at my informant team. "You guys are the best. I still think I should be paying you for this stuff."

"Nah, man," James punched my shoulder playfully. "After Murdock hung his red tights, no one was looking after Hell's Kitchen. This is our way of thanking you."

"But, if you wanna be a pal and give us some cash, we won't say-"

"Ace!"

"-yes, because we are nice people and awesome informants that need no reward for our services." I always admired Ace's ability to improvise.

"Well, you're half right," muttered Duke. He offered me a joint he just finished rolling up, but I declined politely.

For the last week, the trio had proved to be valuable informants and fun people to hang out with, even if I usually did so briefly.

James was a tall, well-built African-American man, with a head shaved and a short beard that made him look tough; and puppy eyes that made him look vulnerable despite the beard and the muscles. Plus, he had a tattoo of Donald Duck on his bicep. This couldn't be said enough.

Ace was a skinny pale girl, who usually wore her dirty blonde hair in dreadlocks. She had a relaxed demeanor and posture that hid the sharp look in her eyes. I'd yet to see her without a ratty old red hoodie that she seemed to carry everywhere, even if it was just tied to her waist.

"Well, if a Tupperware full of cookies ends up webbed next to your window, don't be too shocked." I said. I looked over the list again. "How do you even get all this stuff?"

"I'm a bartender," James said, pointing at himself with his thumb, before turning it to Ace, "Blondie here has friends everywhere-"

"I'm popular!"

"And Duke…" He trailed off and turned to stare at the man in question. So did Ace and I.

Duke stared back, pulled the joint from his lips, and muttered, "I have my ways."

"Right, Duke is magical." James finished.

"Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." I put on my hood and gave a two finger salute, setting a web line with the other hand, before jumping away.

I decided to make my first visit to one Vito Buccelatti, who was in charge of gathering protection money from certain neighborhoods, including Hell's Kitchen.

Least I could do to pay the guys back, right?

 **/breakline\\\\\**

It took me about two months before I finished Fisk's little criminal empire.

And with 'finished', I mean that I managed to get everyone to hide until he sent someone bad enough to kill me.

"You know," I groan, still shaky on my feet and leaning on a wall. "I think you got better since the last time I fought you, Shocker."

"Thanks, same to you." He replied, webbed up from neck to toe on the wall. "You definitely broke something with that last punch."

"Sorry, I was kinda dizzy from the blast you hit me and couldn't control myself that well." My legs gave up the ghost, and I fell on my ass into a sitting position. "So, Fisk sent you, right?"

"Well, I don't know anyone by the name of Fisk, but the guy that sent me was fat, ugly, bald, and had the initials W.F."

"Hm, did he by chance call himself 'Kingpin'?"

"He did indeed call himself that."

"What a douche," I chuckled.

"I know, right?"

Groaning, I forced myself to stand up again. Slightly less shaky, I nodded at Shocker and swung away.

Honestly, the truth is that I know he sent my pineapple-colored friendly enemy as a test of sorts. He knows I'm a fighter, and he knows I beat Electro in an environment I controlled after losing to him in one I didn't.

He needed to know how I worked, how I fought, all that stuff.

He probably stuck cameras in the place Shocker ambushed me, and was having the video analyzed to find someone that could beat me or at the very least match me.

Now; the question is who can do that?

 **/breakline\\\\\**

"Ugh," I rolled my shoulder to try and loosen it up. "Have I ever mentioned to you how much I despise Physical Education?"

"Yeah, but you always change the reason, so I'm gonna let you monologue."

"Well, for starters, the name ruins a perfectly good word by pairing it with one that takes anything good out of it. Besides that, it's totally inconsiderate to vigilantes!"

"Yes, I'm sure that's a common complaint in PTA meetings." Peter said, rolling his eyes as we walked into the coffee shop. "Martha is always going on about how her ' _little Billy is always made to run even if he was beating up the Shocker the night before_ '."

"That was the worse fake woman's voice ever. Of all time."

"Bite me, Jake."

We ordered our drinks (latte for Peter, red tea for me) and continued our conversation in lowered voices.

"So, speaking of which, how did the fight go?"

"I won."

"That's great!"

"Well, I'm 97% sure that it was recorded so Kingpin could find someone that could beat me."

"That's bad."

"Indeed."

Our drinks arrived and I took a sip of mine. Peter stared at his latte.

"What's eating at you?"

"… Are you sure about The Plan? It's really dangerous, and you can't even know it'll work."

"I am sure and I do know it will."

"And how, exactly, do you know that?"

I stared at my mug, trying to think of a justification. When I failed to come up with something, I plastered a cocky grin on my face.

"Tell you what, I'll bet you five bucks that my plan will go off without a hitch."

Peter raised an eyebrow, and then put it down with the other one to frown as he examined my words for any loopholes. He knew I never made a bet without leaving some kind of loophole, unless I was absolutely sure I'd win.

Satisfied when he found none, he smiled and shook my hand.

Then he handed me a pen drive, and we got serious again.

It was time to put my plan in motion.

The Kingpin's downfall would begin that night.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

Fisk Incorporated's main building was a perfectly white skyscraper. It was taller than it had any reason to be. Personally, I suspect Fisk got it to compensate for the fact that he hasn't seen his family jewels in years.

My Spider-Man suit 2.0 was basically the same as the old one, except that it had front and back pockets (discreet ones, with hidden zippers), cameras on my mask lenses, and wireless headphones stuck to the inside of my mask.

" _You ready, Spider-Man?_ " Peter asked from his basement.

"Ready, Mission Control," I replied from the roof of a small-ish building in front of Fisk Inc.'s building.

" _Start on my signal,_ " I heard him pressing some keys on his laptop's keyboard; then taking a deep breath.

"I'll be fine."

" _I know,_ " he let out a heavy sigh and pressed a final key. " _Go._ "

I went.

Using two web lines to slingshot myself (that trick never got old) forward and upwards, I used a third line to control my landing and make sure I didn't crash through a window just yet.

I opened the nearest bathroom window and entered the building. Fortunately, it was the men's bathroom.

I was in no hurry to be labeled a pervert.

I crawled on the roof, making as little noise as possible and avoiding night guards. Eventually, I reached the stairs, and I got to do something stupidly awesome.

Moments later, I reached the top of the building by slingshotting myself three times up the emergency stairs. I barely resisted the urge to whoop.

Chuckling, I stopped in front of the door. It was made so it could only be opened from the inside. I'd have to use all my cunning to get through this obstacle- pfff nah!

I punched the door open. Immediately, alarms started going off through the building.

"That's gonna get annoying fast," I thought out loud, walking calmly past Fisk's secretary's desk. I kicked open the doors to his office, and jumped onto his chair, doing a double-flip in mid-air just because I could.

"Now then, Mister Fisk," I opened a pocket, pulled the pen drive, and closed it, "Bring your secrets to daddy."

I was just about to turn on the computer when my Spidey Sense suddenly started ringing. I had a split second to move my hand before a card embedded itself right where it just was.

"Hm, am I fighting an X-man?" I muttered, before jumping onto the ceiling to avoid the ten cards that stuck themselves where I just was.

Shots so fast even Spidey Sense has trouble keeping up and I can't even tell where they come from, improbable weapon usage, and…

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! I gotta admit! It's been a while since someone dodged one of my shots!"

… Psychotic tendencies, awesome, I was up against Bullseye.

"Hello there," I said, trying to look around the dark room and finding nothing. For a second, I got a glimpse of what it was like to be Electro and have to fight me. I didn't like it. "Are you aware that you are infringing in someone else's trademark weaponry? There's this really sexy guy in the X-Men, Gambit? He does the same thing you're doing, but cooler because his cards explode."

"I can throw more than cards, if you're disappointed." I jumped away to a different part of the ceiling a second before a potted plant hit me right where I just was.

The creepy thing isn't just the deadly aim; it's that he can throw anything with the exact same unnatural precision. If I were anyone else, I'd be a skewered spider in the hands of that psychopath.

Then I heard the crackling of energy behind me and I saw the room light up.

Without looking behind me, I sighed. "Hello, Electro."

"Spider-Man," he greeted.

"You're mad about the locker?"

I jumped down just in time to not get fried, and then jumped forward to avoid three cards, a stapler, and a chunk of drywall.

"I'm mad about the locker," Electro confirmed, before shooting another bolt of lightning at me that I dodged.

This wasn't going to work. Whenever I moved out of the way of one of Electro's attacks, Bullseye was there to kill me.

It was time to use the oldest trick in the book against villain team-ups.

I used to webs to slingshot me onto Electro's chest, where I punched him on the face.

"What are you-?" he shouted, but I interrupted.

"Sorry, next time, don't team up with a psycho," I back-flipped out of his chest just in time to avoid five razor-sharp cards that ended up in Electro's chest instead.

I would apologize to him later.

This wouldn't have been much of an improvement, since I still had a psycho that could weaponize anything attacking me from the shadows; except that this time I saw where they came from. Trusting my luck for once, I shot a web into a shadow and pulled.

I fished a black-leotard wearing psychopath that looked extremely surprised right before I finished spinning mid-air by landing a kick on his face.

He slumped to the ground, but I wasn't convinced he wasn't faking it, so I kicked him in the head again to be sure.

Suddenly, the lights came on, and I turned to find Wilson Fisk standing there, white suit, white shirt, white tie, white pants, white shoes, and red flower on his lapel.

Honestly, I always had a hard time being intimidated when he was fictional, what with how cartoonish his obesity seemed. Here though, I found that he seemed larger-than- HAHAHAHA I CAN'T FINISH THAT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE!

Oh man, don't get me wrong, I'm not body-shaming or anything, but this motherfucker was like a cartoon come to life! He was a fucking balloon with a head!

I couldn't help myself, and a few snickers escaped me.

"Is something funny?" he asked, and my smile dropped. For a terrible second, I feared that he had figured out my plan. He had the smile of someone that knew everything he needed to ensure his victory and comfort for a long time.

"You know, I almost admire your abilities. You started a few months ago, and you almost managed to cripple my empire.

"But you are a mere child, while I am New York's Kingpin of Crime. When Shocker ambushed you, you failed to realize the fight was being filmed. I measured you to find someone capable of defeating you."

"Is that so? How'd that work out for you?" I asked, thanking Loki for my poker face.

(I asked him later, and he wasn't responsible for it, but it still felt appropriate to thank him whenever it got me out of trouble.)

"Better thank you think," he sneered at me like I was something he stepped on. "I had a back-up plan in case you defeated my two enforcers."

He pointed behind him, to the security camera that recorded the whole fight.

"Smile for the camera, Spider-Man."

I stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be happening.

Fisk sat at his desk and turned on his computer, resting his head on one hand as he looked at me smugly.

"I see you realize what I'll do. Soon, I'll release the video of you breaking into my tower, attempting to steal and being fought off by my two hired guards. Granted, it'll take some editing, but I think it'll be worth it, don't you?

"You were a hindrance for a while, I'll grant you that. But no one gets in the way of Wilson Fisk for long. I'll still have this city in the palm of my hand by the end of the year. And there's nothing you or anyone else can-"

"YOU ACTUALLY FELL FOR IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT AND CONFESSED! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He soon stopped talking when he realized I wasn't wide-eyed out of fear.

"What are you laughing about, you imbecile?"

"The pen drive was a distraction, you idiot," I smiled cruelly at him from under my mask. "I had access to your computers since before I even entered the building."

I opened a pocket and pulled out my smartphone. "You gotta love wireless technology, eh? Just stand in front of a building while your genius friend hacks his way in, and it's done."

"Then why…?" Fisk started, confused, before horrible clarity showed itself on his face. " _No._ "

"I see you figured it out," I gestured towards his computer's screen, and he watches helplessly as the security footage is displayed live for everyone with internet access to see. "Smile for the camera, Kingpin. You just confessed to being the head of a criminal empire on live television… Or the millennial equivalent of live television, at least."

I chuckle as he stares in despair at his screen. I hop on his desk and lean over to look at the video. "You know, I really hope it got my good side. It does record things in the dark, right? It'd be pretty useless otherwise."

With a roar, Fisk tried to wring my neck, but I jumped back and made a 'no-no' gesture with a finger.

"I wouldn't waste time doing that, Willie! Tell me, how long do you think you have before the police get here? Better question: how long until the Avengers do? There _were_ three masked fellas involved in this, you know."

He glared at me, all his power removed in a second. "I'll destroy you for this. I'll tear you apart, you and everyone you love."

I laughed, long and hard, before I suddenly stopped and looked him dead in the eye.

"No. You are going to run. You're going to take your suits, you're going to take your empire, and you're going to take your stupid fucking lapel flower. _Then_ , you are going get the fuck out of your stupid tower of compensation, and you're going to take a nice long trip to anywhere but here."

I used a web to drag him forward until he was eye level with me, and growled, "Now get the _fuck_ out of my city."

He tried to leave with dignity, but when he was halfway out of his office, we heard police sirens, and he had to run as fast as his fat little legs could take him.

Still chuckling at the sight, I turned and found that Bullseye was gone. In his place was a note that read as such:

" _You've got style, kid. I'm going to enjoy killing you next time I pass through New York. Love, Bullseye._ "

I rolled my eyes and grumbled. "I wait all puberty to get a love letter, and my first one comes from a psychopath from the wrong gender."

Shrugging, I walk out of the office, break a window, and swing away.

I had just had my first major victory, and that deserved a feast of celebration.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

"I propose a toast; to success!" I called, glass raised in the air. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Peter, Ben, and a rather confused May replied.

"What did you succeed in, sweetheart?" asked May after we all took a drink.

"Nothing important. I just like the idea."

As I ate my favorite meal, surrounded by my favorite people and as they talked animatedly, I thought to myself that this is what a home should be.

I hid a smile behind a glass of water and thought that, whatever happened next, it'd be worth it to make sure these people were safe.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some answers to some questions plus some things I wanted to say:**

 *** I'm unsure about writing romances into the story, or at least any that would have a major impact on the story. Of course, Peter will have at least twenty girlfriends before finishing high school, that's just a constant in any Marvel universe. Man's like a magnet.**

 *** Like it says in the chapter, this isn't really in any pre-made universe. It's more like an amaglamation; I'm taking the parts I like from this and that, and putting it all together in a semi-coherent line, which, let's be honest, is better than what some comics give us.**

 *** Teams: I have no idea. I have this vague idea of having Spider-Man be involved with the Young Avengers, and from there move on to the actual Avengers, but that wouldn't come into play until much later, and even then I'm not too sure about it.**

 *** As for Peter, he's going to have it a bit easier than he usually does. Most of his problems come because he's Spider-Man, he's distracted thinking about his Spider-Troubles, or he's bruised to hell and back. He'll have it a bit easier, due to the separation between him and the webhead. Also, yes, he looks like Tom Holland, but with glasses and no frog in his mouth.**

 **Next chapter will be an interlude, dealing with several people's reactions to Spidey's trickery, including the Avengers, the Daily Bugle, the school in general, and Ben.**


	4. Interlude - and Mate

**Interlude #1: … and Mate**

As they stared at the TV in silence, Tony could practically feel the incredulity pouring from his teammates.

Eventually, he broke the silence.

"You got to admit, the kid's got talent," he chuckled.

Steve snapped out of his shock and turned to look at him. "That kid just went over all our heads while we were stuck trying to find a hole in his legal defenses, faced the problem himself, dodged hits from a man said to never miss, and tricked Fisk to confess to everything he did without saying a word."

Steve smiled at the screen. "I'd say it's more than just talent."

Then the smile soured and he frowned. "With that said; I'm not sure I like the idea of a kid gearing up to fight bad guys with the rest of us. He should be doing kid things, not tricking criminal masterminds and beating up card-throwing maniacs."

"The child fights cleverly," Thor chimed in; walking into the room while biting what looked to be a chicken thigh the size of Tony's head. "He is a trickster, like Loki."

"I'm not sure if you're praising him or not." Steve said.

"I'm praising him! Weak and frail as he looks, it's admirable that he found a way to fight without strength!"

"He jumped like three feet in the air, Thor."

"Yes, I suspect sorcery."

Rolling his eyes, Tony went back to inspecting the video. He wondered what the kid was doing now that he succeeded in liberating New York from its would-be tyrant.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

Jay Jonah Jameson, editor in chief and owner of the Daily Bugle, was seething.

More than usual, that is.

On the table in front of him was a laptop, which was facing his top reporters. The laptop, at the moment, was displaying a video that had been shown throughout the news, over and over.

On it, that smug menace was revealing its scheme to that fat, lying bastard.

Once the video was over, Jonah closed the laptop and gave the room a glare.

"So," he began; his voice chillingly calm. "Can someone tell me why we weren't on top of this story?"

"We talked about it," his top reporter, Ben Urich, replied. He seemed completely unaffected by his boss' tone. "It was on the front page and we talked about it on the evening news."

"Yeah, we did." Jonah smashed a fist onto the table suddenly. "But why the hell aren't we talking about Spider-Man?!"

"What is there to say? We don't know anything about the guy, other than he was smart enough to trick Fisk." Ben shrugged. "A new hero shows up in New York; it's just another Tuesday."

"Right, except he's not a hero! He's a menace!" Jonah gestured at his closed laptop. "He broke into a building, tricked someone into stabbing another person, and had a friend hack into Fisk's security! We spent the last few months worshipping the ground the fat liar walked on, and now he made us look like idiots!"

"So what do you want us to do?" asked Ben, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"I want everyone to know what a menace he is! He doesn't spin a web without us knowing, and without us telling everyone about it! I want his every move to be public!" Jonah lit a cigar and bit down on it. "And for god's sake, I want a good picture of him!"

As everyone left the room, with Ben on the back of the group because he wanted to make sure Jonah noticed his disapproving look, Jonah looked out his window and towards the city. And he wondered, worried, where that wall-crawling menace was now.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

Matt Murdock, in a rare moment of tranquility between cases, took a moment to listen to the radio.

Unsurprisingly, they were still talking about Spider-Man.

Matt leaned back in his chair, and let go of the block he had on his senses. A long time ago, he learned to put a filter, to block the horrible constant sound that came with living in the city.

Whenever he released the filter, he felt a little more like Daredevil and a little less like Matt Murdock.

A part of him, he suspected, would always be Daredevil. Right up until he finally died. It was the part of him that couldn't help but yearn for his suit, so he could run out and help whenever he heard screaming. It was the part of him that made him let go of the filter and listen to the city whenever the night felt too still and he couldn't stop tracing his scars with his fingers.

It was the part of him that stayed in Hell's Kitchen, no matter where he was, and tried to protect it.

Because that was the problem with Hell's Kitchen: it had no guardian angels. The Avengers rarely passed through there unless they were beating up aliens or something along the way.

Or, at least it didn't have guardian angels, until Spider-Man showed up.

Fisk had started his criminal empire on Hell's Kitchen, figuring (correctly) that he wouldn't find much resistance as long as he could provide guns and narcotics.

But then he met resistance in the shape of a skinny guy with a hood and a spider stitched to his chest. Or at least that's how Foggy described him.

A part of Matt was always going to be the Devil of Hell's Kitchen; it was true, but…

 _A small sound was heard just in the range of Matt's hearing; a tiny little 'thwip' that carried a swinging body._

Maybe Daredevil could relax knowing someone was picking up the slack.

Idly, as he went over to Karen's sleeping body and he woke her up with a kiss, he wondered what Spider-Man was gonna do next.

 **/breakline\\\\\**

Ben Parker had to admit something. If nothing else, being paralyzed from the waist down had done wonders for his biceps.

He chuckled slightly as he used the T-Rex-shaped reaching stick Peter got him to get a box of cheerios from a tall shelf.

He grabbed a bowl from the shelves that Jake had fixed to be easily accessible (they were slightly crooked, but no one mentioned it except for Jake, who apologized any time he saw someone get something from the shelves).

He got the milk from the fridge, which was put somewhere both could reach by May, even if Ben left it on the top on purpose. She couldn't bend down like she used to (he was suddenly thankful he never commented that in the presence of his sons. They'd both get this faraway look for a second, before they both adopted grossed-out looks. The difference would be that Jake would still chuckle, while Peter would run off to smack his head against the nearest flat surface).

With a wistful smile, Ben stopped in front of the TV and turned it on.

His smile faded into a frown. There, footage of Jake wearing his costume and laughing at Fisk was being played on the background, while a harsh-faced reporter talked about how this was a clear display of villainous tendencies.

Disgusted, Ben turned off the TV.

"I guess it's a good thing Jake never liked the Daily Bugle, huh?" Peter asked, leaning on the back of the couch next to Ben.

"I guess so." He muttered with his hand cupping his chin, as they glared at the black mirror in silence.

After he was paralyzed, Ben was fired from his job. He had been saving for a long time, but the threat of homelessness had been hanging over their head, getting closer every day.

Shortly before Jake put the final phase of his plan in motion, he had run around New York in the middle of the day, making sure he was extremely visible. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology and the general public's obsession of putting everything they saw on the internet, his popularity rose steadily.

Half an hour after that, Ben rolled in with his wheelchair and got the trademark for the Spider-Man brand. If anyone tried to make anything that involved him; shirts, toys, shoes, bed sheets, toilet seat covers, anything- they'd have to pay Ben Parker for the right.

And wouldn't you know it? Practically overnight, Spider-Man became a celebrity. In no time, Ben would be getting e-mails and calls and visits, begging for a contract to be the first to put out shirts with the Spider-Man symbol and a snarky caption.

Ben was surprised when Jake explained his plan to him, seeing how the boy hated the overly-capitalistic aspects of American culture.

" _My feelings on capitalism are secondary,_ " Jake had waved him off. " _You're all far more important._ "

And Ben had been overcome with shame, sadness, and pride.

The shame was aimed at himself, because he had become dependent on a teenager's help to feed his family.

Sadness, because this boy, this child that he had helped raise, was growing up so fast, and was heading down a dangerous path.

And pride, because despite the dangers and the speed with which he was doing it, his boy was growing up, and he was doing a fine job of it.

Ben gave Peter a look and smiled to himself, finishing his bowl and taking it to the sink.

' _Well, both my boys are growing up. I'm glad I get to see it._ '

That did leave a question, though. What was his other son doing now?

 **/breakline\\\\\**

A lot of people were asking the same question, in different ways. Throughout the city, people wondered, what was Spider-Man doing now? What was his next move?

As they asked that, Spider-Man was relaxing at home.

He had his sock-clad feet on a table, he was leaning back on his chair, he was pushing cold ramen into his mouth with a fork, and his pants hadn't been worn since he went to sleep.

' _I stopped my first super villain,_ ' he'd reasoned to himself. ' _I earned a lazy day._ '

 **/breakline\\\\\**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Full disclosure, I hate how this turned out. I might come back and edit it at a later date, but I just want to get it out of the way for now.**

 **I can't think of what should happen next, so I might not update for a while. Or maybe I will. I dunno, I haven't slept in two days, I'll see what comes out after I nap.**

 **See ya, please review and stuff, good night!**


	5. New Problems

**Chapter #4: New problems.**

Life was good.

I'd taken down _Kingpin_ after our first confrontation just like that. I barely had a plan, he surprised me with Electro and Bullseye, and I still managed to make him get confident and spill his secrets.

At school, I saw a couple people sporting Spider-Man t-shirts they'd bought over the weekend. Every shirt bought, and every pair of web-patterned leggings and every accessory carrying the Spider-Man theme was another dollar in the Parker piggy bank.

And, surprisingly, I was slowly figuring out how to balance out my life as Spider-Man and my life as Jake Fletcher. Crime was slowly going down around New York, and Hell's Kitchen was even starting to average out in crime rates. There were still problems, but I could tackle those one at a time.

And as I swung my costumed self across the New York skyline, I couldn't help but laugh a little. Yeah, life was definitely good.

Still, a part of me couldn't help but- is that building on fire?

And there it is! Why can't good things last? I didn't even get time to make my ominous monologue!

I swung myself at the burning building with boisterous bravado.

Heh, I love alliteration.

* * *

"What the hell happened to your eye?" asked Peter as we waited for the bus.

"Eh, a wall fell on me," I shrugged. "You should have seen me last night, I was pretty much 97% bruise."

"And now…?" He asked,

"I'll be fine by the weekend, next week at most."

"Healing factors are bullshit."

"Hey, Wolverine would've been fine by the time he went to bed."

"Wolverine is the king of bullshit healing factors."

"I won't argue that," I shrug. "… Except I will. Deadpool can take more damage."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh huh."

"Wanna bet?" Peter asked eagerly.

"Loser does the dishes for a month?" I smirked, knowing from previous research that I was right.

"You're on."

We remained in companionable silence for a few moments, before I broke it.

"Hey, yesterday, I noticed Stacy was looking at you."

"Stacy? Gwen Stacy?"

"The very same," I said, already seeing where this whole conversation would go.

"Why she be staring at me?"

"She's crushing on you." I immediately reply, pulling out my phone.

"What? No, that's-"

"Totally possible, and I'm willing to bet another month of dish-washing on it." I say, checking out the news. Bugle was still talking shit, but other than that, nothing too interesting.

Peter stayed silent. He knew that, unlike him, I only started bets I would win.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

I didn't reply, asking James if he had any news through text.

"Holy shit," he repeated, this time a little louder.

Hm, James didn't have anything too bad, just a few names and faces that needed remodeling. I could deal with that that night.

"Holy shit, Jake!" Peter shouted.

Ah, this is the part where I come in.

"Yup," I nodded.

"What do I do?! Do I ask her out?"

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Huh? Why not?" Peter asked, confusion written clearly on his face.

"Peter, she has all the personality of a ham sandwich."

"Well, yeah, but she's the hottest girl in our year!"

"So?"

"Uh," Peter suddenly looked embarrassed. "Well now I just feel shallow."

I snort, before looking going back to my phone. There was nothing new with the News, and no updates in the fanfics I was following.

Okay, so I'm still a big nerd in this life, sue me.

"… I'm gonna ask her out." Peter decided.

"Why?"

"Well, it's impossible to have _no_ personality, right?" Peter reasoned, "Maybe if I get to know her better, we can actually… you know?"

"Fuck? Get married? Give me a clue here, Pete."

Blushing, Peter sputtered. "Buh, you know, like, get, serious and stuff."

"Right, fuck," I nodded, "It's nice that you want to get to know her for real, Peter. You're a man of principles and manners."

Peter groaned; blushing to the point he was red like a tomato. I chuckled and patted his arm.

"Okay, but do it in private, buddy. Confessing in public never ends happily." I wondered where the hell the bus was.

"Right," Peter nodded, frowning adorably with determination. He snapped out of his planning to smile at me. "Thanks for telling me, Jake. Seriously, you're the best."

"No prob, Bob." I patted his shoulder. "You know I got your back."

* * *

I proved that I meant what I said when I punched Flash in the face for the first time in months.

What?

What?!

He was picking on Peter! No one messes with my bro! Not that I'd ever say that.

Besides, Flash was long-overdue an ass-kicking. He'd gotten cocky(er) with all the time I spent not shoving him face-first into a wall.

Maybe a little explanation was required on my social life:

See, this is a list of how many friends I had.

Peter.

That's it. That's the list. I had Peter.

Besides that, I had my parents, my biological parents, some people I worked out with at the Muay Thai class, and the bullies of Midtown High.

You know what the bullies thought of me?

 _They were fucking terrified of me._

The first day, I saw Flash picking on some nerdy guy. I rushed over and punched the jock in the face, breaking his nose.

As he lay in the ground, I glared down and cracked my knuckles.

" _My name is Jake Motherfucking Fletcher,_ " I growled. " _And I don't like bullies._ "

Peter was facepalming in the background, but I'm told a lot of people thought it was a cool moment.

And that's how my reign of terror campaign against bullying began. Every time I saw or heard of someone getting picked on, I intervened with extreme prejudice.

I didn't care for race, gender, or age. I got into a lot of fights, but I managed to avoid expulsion thanks to the victims backing me up. Pretty soon, I had a reputation as that weird guy with the hero complex.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't make friends thanks to that; since a lot of people thought I was just the helpful kind of unstable.

And considering I put on web-patterned tights and swing around punching criminals in the face that might be a bit true.

Anyways, back to the present, I was punching Flash on the face.

See, Peter had decided that the best way to ask out Gwen in private would be to approach her while she was in the middle of the hallway and ask if they could talk in private.

… While she was surrounded by people.

… Including the cheerleaders and jocks that regularly (tried to) bullied him.

What Peter lacked in common sense, he made up for in courage, I guess.

Anyway, Flash did his usual thing, called Peter 'puny', pushed him against a wall, and was about to hit him, before I caught his arm.

He looked over his shoulder, saw me smiling, and paled.

And then I punched him in the face.

Don't worry, I held back. If I hadn't, his head would've flown off of his shoulders.

Instead, all of him flew down the hallway.

"Heya Flash!" I cracked my knuckles. "What's good?"

Things went to hell from there.

* * *

I walked home with Peter, a new bruise on my jaw. I was smirking cockily.

"I know you could have kicked his ass in seconds if you didn't have to hide your identity," Peter muttered, poking me. "I'm just saying it doesn't count if you don't actually win."

"I won morally and spiritually." I explained.

Peter, poor fool that he was, didn't get it and just rolled his eyes at me. He hadn't gotten to talk with Gwen, due to the fight and all, which I apologized for. He shrugged it off, but I knew it was bothering.

Luckily, I also knew what was going to happen next.

"Hey, I'm gonna go ahead while you talk to her," I said to him. Peter stopped and opened his mouth to ask what the hell I was on about, when Gwen Stacy poked his shoulder and asked what he wanted to talk about.

' _Yeah,_ ' I thought to myself, sneaking into an alley and taking off my shirt and hoodie to reveal my supersuit underneath. ' _I'm an awesome wingman._ '

I put my civilian clothes in my backpack, replacing my mask, and I rushed back to Queens, trying to keep myself out of sight.

After dumping my backpack at an abandoned building near my house, I rushed to hit the streets.

Spider-Man was on the scene!

 **BOOM!**

… The scene seemed to have relocated somewhere a little to the left, but Spider-Man was headed towards the scene!

I rushed towards the scene and found a car with actual bills pouring out the windows, rushing away from the bank.

' _Wow, now that's a cliché,_ ' I thought, shooting a web at the roof of the car mid-air and letting it drag me behind it for a second. ' _I'd be impressed if I weren't so annoyed._ '

I waited until gravity had lowered me enough and used the web to pull myself onto the roof.

There, using my cling, I did a handstand on the front of the car, back to the driver.

And then I threw my feet down and _held_ onto the street.

The front was immediately destroyed under my hands, and the robbers inside smashed their heads against whatever they had in front of them.

"Yup," I whispered, smirking cockily under my mask as I pulled my hands out of the engine, "I'm awesome."

I walked around it, shaking my hand a bit. Despite making it look easy, it did leave 'Righteous' and 'Fury' a bit sore.

Yes, I named my fists. Righteous is my right fist, if you were wondering.

I tore off a door and put all the money bags onto the street, where I webbed them to the spot.

I saw two cops approaching, so I waved at them to put down their guns. "Hey, I got this under control. The crooks are a bit banged up, but they're fine."

"You're Spider-Man, from MeTube, right?"

I nodded. I was probably being recorded at the moment, and I didn't feel like ruining my 'creepy awesome' persona with whatever stupid thing came out of my mouth.

The cops –a man and a woman, were lowering the guns. The man was even starting to smile, when suddenly they snapped to attention and aimed their guns.

"Look out!"

I looked behind me. My Spidey Sense hadn't detected danger, and it made sense. The driver was getting out, clutching his head with one hand.

Wait, what was his other hand doing?

He pulled an orange pill bottle from his pocket, popped it open with one hand (which really shouldn't be possible, those things should be child-proof) and he shoved a bunch of little red pills into his mouth.

Suddenly, my Spidey Sense started screaming at me, a little after my Common Sense shouted at me to stop him.

But, I wanted to see what he was doing, so instead, I turned back to the cops and rushed to get them away.

I put them both over my shoulders and turned around, just in time to see a mutation take place.

The Driver's wounds disappeared in seconds, and a cruel smile painted his features for all of a second before he winced in pain.

His muscles started bulging out, stretching his skin until it _ripped open_ , no longer capable of holding his mass. He kept growing, his body reaching to be about twice my height (no mean feat, seeing how I'm 5'9''). His skin tore itself almost completely to shreds, as opposed to his clothes, which didn't survive.

(Sidenote: gross, that's a giant penis. (A detached part of me wondered how long until someone called this guy their fetishes come to life))

His muscles were a vivid red, and he dripped slightly. His face was a bit deformed, some muscles bulging.

He made a few pitiful noises, and took a few steps.

I set down the cops and took off my hood, before putting up my hands.

"Hey, it's okay," I slowly walked forward. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, it's gonna be okay, I can see you didn't know this would happen," I kept blabbering whatever comforting stupid thing came to mind, taking slow steps towards him. His focus fell on me, and he glared, "Easy big guy, I can get you fixed. You'll be nice and back to normal, does that sound- SHIT!"

At the last second, I jumped away due to the blaring of my Spidey Sense.

The hit was fast, almost faster than I was, and strong enough to shatter the street.

Then his other fist caught me mid-air.

All the air left my lungs and I only realized I went flying because crashing down snapped me out of my shock.

I got up groggily and realized that I was a block away from where I just was. Oh crap.

I pulled up my suit and saw that the front of my body was mostly just a big bruise. Oh, crap!

I looked back to where I was and saw the two cops shooting at the mutated crook, who was grinning savagely as he slowly walked up to them.

Oh _hell_ no.

I rushed as fast as I could go. Honestly, I always held back in everything, except my Spidey Sense.

If I didn't hold back with my strength, I'd just kill everyone I fought. Not to mention, I liked having an ace up my sleeve.

It was finally time to use my ace.

I rushed, breaking a bit of the street under my feet as I rushed.

I was halfway there when the crook raised his arm.

I was three-quarters of the way done when he started bringing it down.

I was there when it almost touched down, only for me to catch it.

A crater formed under me, and my arms shook slightly under the strain, but I pushed back, and to the crook's obvious surprised, I lifted his arm until he could look me in the eye.

I glared as fiercely as I could.

"Okay then," I growled, "No more Mister Nice Guy."

I dropped the arm, rushed under his guard, and hit his stomach with all my strength.

He went flying back a few feet before he landed on his feet. I was already on him, though.

I rushed forward again and jumped to reach his face, which I punched down as hard as I could.

He fell on his ass, and I used a web to fling myself at him, driving my knee into his chin.

He seemed dizzy, but I didn't buy it.

The cops, unfortunately, did.

"Kid, that was-" the male cop approached, smiling widely.

"Hold on!" I shouted, putting a hand towards him.

Before my Spidey Sense could warn me, the crook grabbed me.

"Crap."

He tossed me at a building, and I went through a wall.

I bounced a few times, rolled a little, and stopped right in front of a pretty redhead wearing a skimpy dress.

I groaned as I got up and looked around. I seemed to be inside some kind of studio.

I looked at the redhead and nodded, trying to sound confident and mature. "Hey, I'm Spider-Man. How you doin'?"

The redhead actually giggled at that, and smiled at me. "Not much, I just saw this guy come in through a wall."

"He sounds charming," I shook my head and started running off.

… Okay, look, nobility obligates and I shouldn't have gotten distracted, but she was _really_ pretty.

… Yeah, I know, I'm an ass.

I jumped out of the hole I made coming in and used two webs to slingshot me at the mutated crook, who was walking away.

I arrived with a kick to the back of his head, from where I back flipped away.

This did, of course, absolutely nothing.

But I surprised him, and I pressed my small advantage. I connected his legs to the ground using webs, running between and around them to avoid capture.

As the idiot spun around trying to catch me, he tangled himself further, and I used more webs to stick him to buildings around us.

By the time I finished, he was stuck in a gigantic web cocoon that connected to everything around him. It reached up to his mouth, and I could hear some muffled cursing.

"Okay then," I fell on my ass and cracked my neck, wincing at the stiffness on it. I should be thankful that becoming a demolition tool only left me with sore bruises and a stiff neck. "Just gotta keep an eye on him until he turns back or the proper authorities show up. Whichever happens first, I guess."

"Uh," I turned and saw the cops from before, giving the cocoon wary looks. "Is it safe to approach now?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, but I'll warn you," I wave their worries off, going back to observing the cocoon.

"Right, I just wanted to tell you that that was the bravest thing I've seen in a long time." The man said, smiling at me. A small smile formed under my mask, and I gave him a thumb up.

"Pretty stupid, too," the lady noted.

"This is coming from half the pair that chose to stick around and shoot the giant mutated crook?" I asked sarcastically.

She raised a finger, before putting it down. "Okay, you've got me there."

"Heh," I chuckle, before I look at the crook and blink in surprise. His eyes were closed, he was shaking, and a muffled, pitiful scream could be heard.

"Shit, something's happening!" I jump to my feet, getting dizzy for a second, before walking closer and putting a hand on his leg.

I hear the cops run away behind me, but I'm staring at the crook. I know he's not trying to break out; then he'd be making a scream of wrath.

The pitiful noise coming from him… it could only mean he was shifting back.

I tore the webs away. "Hey, it's okay, don't-"

I couldn't finish. I had just torn the web covering his mouth, and the blood-curling scream he released froze me on the spot. His body was shrinking unevenly, one hand getting to a normal size while the rest of the arm stayed giant-sized.

By the time it was finished he was completely normal.

Normal, except he was still missing his skin.

I…

I would see a lot of horrors, over my time as Spider-Man.

But seeing that deformed man, wheezing his last breaths in a hollowed cocoon of my webs? It was something that would haunt me for a long time, as one of my greatest failures.

I let him drink those pills because I wanted to see what they'd do.

It was my fault, completely.

I got cocky and stopped the car with unnecessary violence, let him take the damn pills, and now…

I sighed, dropping to my knees and staring at the man.

"Spider-Man," one of the cops said. I looked over my shoulder and saw it was the lady. "This… you couldn't have known."

I stared at her for a second, then back down at the man. He looked at me as he took his last breaths.

A selfish part of me hoped he'd say something like ' _not your fault_ ' to drive the point home, or something like that.

But no such luck. All I saw was a horrible fear in his expression as his body shook, right up until the light left his eyes.

I kept staring for a while, before I forced myself to move.

I closed his eyes, muttered a few words asking any listening deity to take pity on the man's soul, and walked over to the car I stopped.

I looked inside and I saw his partner, shaking in his seat. There was no one else; the back seat was occupied by bags of money.

"You saw what those pills did to your friend?" I asked.

He nodded, shaking.

"Give me your bottle and I won't break your legs for letting your friend do something so _stupid_."

He handed them over in a flash.

I put one in my pocket and handed the rest of the bottle to the cops.

"Have your guys look into these, whatever they are. I'll have mine do some work, see if I can figure out a cure for the next… whatever the fuck that just was." I rubbed the bridge of my nose through my mask. "I think I'll turn in early, I need to do something about this. Also, I'm kinda of a giant human bruise right now."

The cops chuckled and gave me the go-ahead.

I swung home, feeling defeated.

* * *

"Do you need to talk?"

I stared at Ben. I was holding an icepack to my eye, resisting the temptation of scratching under the Band-Aid on my chin. I looked like I'd been run over. Which was convenient, because it made the explanation that I'd been run over more believable for Aunt May.

"What is there to talk about?" I asked as I switched the hand I was holding the icepack with.

"You couldn't save him." Ben said with a pitying expression, and I hid a wince.

"I can't save everyone. I know that much." I glared at the red pill on my hand. "But I can save the next person suckered into buying these."

"You know what that is?" Ben asked, curious. I was smart for my age, but smart in a well-read sense of the word. I was no Peter, and we both knew that.

"I have my theories, now I just gotta wait for Peter to come back from his date." I realized what I'd said too late.

"Peter's what?" Ben asked, frozen in shock.

"Uh, his, uh…"

"Jake. Does my boy have a date?"

"… yeah, he does."

"Is she cute?"

"She's the hottest in our year, according to Peter. Not really my type, but-"

"MAY! MAY, PETER'S GOT A DATE WITH A CUTE GIRL!"

The hurried footsteps of an old lady came from the kitchen, and May appeared suddenly in the living room, looking.

"Did you say-?"

"Yeah!"

May whooped with joy, and danced a jig, while Ben did his level best to imitate her. I rolled my eyes.

With how awkward and shy Peter could be around people he wasn't that familiar with, Ben and May had been really worried he would never make friends outside of me.

Slightly insulting, but I got why they thought that.

Still, I knew better. Peter had the potential to be a social butterfly.

I sighed and leaned back, smiling despite myself. Yeah, this was nice.

The door opened and Peter stumbled in. Some smudged black lipstick could be seen on the corner of his mouth.

The old Parker Charm at work, ladies and gentlemen.

He was greeted with the image of Ben and May dancing, and a frown immediately settled itself on his face.

"Jake, you ass, did you tell-" he stopped when he saw me sitting on the couch, covered in bruises. "Sweet merciful Thor, did they torture it out of you?!"

"Nah, sorry, but it slipped out. Didn't you check your phone? I got run over."

Peter checked his phone and saw the texts I'd sent him, explaining my fight earlier. Then he saw he had a new one, telling him that we'd talk later.

He looked up at me, and I nodded at his Aunt and Uncle. They were staring at him with giddy expressions, ready to ask a million questions.

Peter sighed, put his phone in his pocket, and stretched his arms.

"Ask away," he said, with a tone like he was sacrificing himself for my sins.

I watched with amusement as he was lost to a sea of parental excitement.

* * *

"This is fascinating, Jake." Peter said, as he examined the pill giddily.

"Care to elaborate?" I grunted as I texted away from my spot on the basement wall. James promised me he and the others would ask around. I got the feeling I would need more informants.

"Well, in layman's terms, it's like it makes people mutants for a while, and then it burns out. It should have a different effect with everyone." Peter chuckled, adjusting the microphone. "It's ingenious, in an evil kind of way. It's also a bit of a drug, so it makes you powerful and a bit high. Keep people addicted to the high and the power."

"And an overdose ends in a big-ass mutation, huh?"

"Yeah…" Peter lost the energy, and turned in his swivel chair. "Jake, if you need to talk, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know Pete, but…" I shook my head and sighed. "I dunno."

Peter got up, sat down on the couch I'd helped move down here years ago, and patted a spot next to him. I jumped on it, winced at the pain I caused myself, before slowly leaning back.

"I guess, I guess I just thought that I could save everyone. Logically, I know that I _can't_ , but…" I closed my eyes. "This is the first time it hits me head-on like this."

We talked a while more. No tears were shed, I don't make a habit of crying, but I did find myself shaking.

Peter offered comfort and a shoulder to lean on.

Eventually, I cleared my head, and just rested there with my head on my brother's shoulder.

I felt like something was tight around my throat, keeping me from breaking the silence, but I cleared my throat and tried anyways.

"So, how did your date go?"

"Didn't you hear when I told May and Ben?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

Peter huffed good-naturedly and told me.

I'd take care of the problem later. Now I could rest.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fucking chapter, I swear to god.**

 **It just. Wouldn't. HAPPEN!**

 **But, I preservered, and I bring you this! 4,344 words (plus the author's note) of a new arc! I call this the Cape Arc in my notes. You'll see why.**

 **Drugs and power-granting stuff and power-granting drugs have always been a recurring theme in the many Marvel Universes. Now we get to dig around on that, because it's literally the only thing I could think of.**

 **Also, I am now planting the seeds for some civilian drama for Jake and Peter.**

 **So, uh, yeah. Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**

 **PS: I finally realized I can put actual breaklines. You can see why I'm not writing Jake as a genius.**


	6. Caper (heh)

**Chapter #5: Caper (heh).**

The look on my face must've been damn scary, even despite the mask, because James seemed nervous.

"I'm not mad at you, James," I forced a calm tone on myself. "I'm pissed because someone died using this shit."

"Uh, right, whatever you say, man." James let out a heavy breath. "Still, you're a scary motherfucker when you're mad."

I sighed, and forced the tension off of my shoulders. "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Right, the super drugs," James handed me a manila folder and spoke as I thumbed through it. "The stuff's called 'Cape', you know, like people like you? Basically, it's super strength, super speed, and super cheap. Or at least that's how they sell it."

"' _They_ ' as in…?"

"' _They_ ' as in no one I know." James shrugged. "I'm just a bartender, man. I did, however, find out that most of the people that sell this are connected somehow to this guy, Allen Marks."

"And he's what, a pissed-off chemist?"

"Nah, nothing so exciting. He's just an old politician." After a second, he added, "He's corrupt, obviously."

"Obviously," I agreed. "Well, I'll look into him. I assume there's a starting point in here?"

"Obviously," James said, copying my tone.

"Don't start; we obviously won't be able to stop until tomorrow."

"Obviously, I didn't start this."

"James, come on," I said, smiling and laughing a little.

"Hey, there's the Spidey I know. I thought I'd lost you to brooding."

"Not quite there yet, man."

* * *

"You think I should kiss her when I see her?"

"Huh?" I looked up from my phone, surprised. "Were you talking to me?"

" _Yes_ ," Peter said, clearly irritated. "I was asking if I should kiss Gwen when I come in."

"Let me think," I leaned back. Well, in this universe, she seemed slightly more likeable than her original characterization. Actually liked Peter, and treated him right on their date yesterday. But she was still a popular girl, and she might be under pressure.

"Let her make the first move," I decided. "If she kisses you, you should do so from now on. If she doesn't, but looks like she does, wait until you're both alone. Same if she acts and looks like she doesn't even know you."

Peter thought it over as he opened his locked and messed around. "That sounds good to me. How're things with Marks?"

"Annoying," I growled. "The guy's security is tighter than a nun's anus."

"Sorry I can't do much, but you know I'm not much of a hacker," Peter shrugged. "We really lucked out with Frisk's security, and I really think you need something better than a burner phone for protection when you're Spider-ing around. What I did with your signal just makes anyone that tries to tap in listen to the Piña Colada song and see that you're in Hawaii, and I seriously doubt it would stand up to someone like Doom."

Was that exposition?

"You might be right," I scratched my chin, half-lost in thought, when the bus pulled up. Before we got in, I said, "It's not like they hand out pre-prepared phones for wanna-be heroes, though. And besides, I fight drug dealers and muggers, not magical megalomaniacs."

"Aren't you fighting super-drug sellers, now?"

"Totally different, Pete," I mutter, walking in and nodding at the bus driver.

And that's when my day started going downhill in the most spectacular way.

"Hey! If it isn't my favorite quitter!" a muscled, brown-haired asshole wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt called, smiling at me like we were old friends.

Immediately, I glared at him as hard as I could.

"Brooks," I growled. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Somewhere as far away from me as humanly possible, perhaps?"

Alec Brooks was the bane of my existence before I became Spider-Man. After I took up the webs, he was demoted to being the bane of Jake Fletcher's existence.

When I realized that the skinny kid I played at the park with was, in fact, Peter Parker, I decided I would do everything I could to support him once he became Spider-Man (best laid plans, eh Jake?) and thus, as soon as it was physically possible, I started exercising.

I joined a Muay Thai gym and worked my ass off to be in tip-top shape.

And then, this cocky little shit two years older than me starts mocking me for being the youngest member (even though he was the second youngest) and decided to bully me every day I spent at the gym.

And we all know how I feel about bullies, don't we?

Long story short, we hate each other and bruised up the other in more than one occasion. Whatever obsession Flash had for picking on Peter, Alec had the same for me. With other bullies, it was just regular-old standing up for victims.

Alec made it personal. He focused on me, insulted anything that I liked and demeaned any accomplishments I made. I hate to admit it, but every time he made nothing out of something I'd done that I was proud of… it really stung.

Luckily, my Spidey Sense had become a great tool for avoiding people I don't like.

Still, the asshole persisted. He especially liked to remind me of how I quit going to the gym. He thought it was because I was scared. It was because I could kill someone if I got too heated up in a fight.

"What's the matter, no smart answers?"

"Smart answers would go right over your head," I replied, going over to an empty seat and dropping myself down with a huff.

"Dude, just piss off," everyone's head, including mine, snapped to look at Peter, who was frowning at Alec. In all the years I'd known him, I had never heard Peter stand up to someone like that.

"Ooh! Look, Penis Parker stood up for his-"

"HEY!" and now everyone turned to look at Gwen Stacy, who had stood from her seat and strode over to hold Peter's hand- HOLY SHIT! "You got something to say about my boyfriend?"

My jaw dropped, Peter's eyes widened, and I heard someone whisper ' _what the fresh fuck_ '.

"You're dating this loser?"

"You're so dumb that the only insult you could come up is Penis Parker?"

I chuckled. Okay, I take everything back, Gwen Stacy is awesome.

Alec bristled, "Why you little-"

"Okay, Homer Simpson, listen," I stood up as I talked, making my way to stand next to Peter. "If you think too hard about why someone wouldn't act like a total piece of garbage, you'll blow your brain out, so let me make this easy for you to understand.

"You either leave my friend and his surprisingly cool girlfriend alone, or I'll smack the shit out of you so hard that you great-great-grandchildren will wonder what the fuck they did to deserve being in so much pain."

I smiled benevolently, "Are we clear?"

Alec sized me up for a second, and in a rare moment of intelligence, backed down.

Peter and Gwen followed me back to my seat.

"Surprisingly cool, huh?" Gwen asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. I turned to look at Peter and gave him a thumbs-up.

Peter explained, "He approves of, uh, our relationship."

"Gee, thanks," Gwen rolled her eyes. "What is he, your overprotective mother?"

"More like an overprotective older brother," I muttered.

Gwen blinked. "Wait, are you two actually related?"

Peter and I looked at each other. I put my headphones on and Peter made a so-so gesture.

* * *

When we arrived at the school, the doors were smashed in and everyone was standing outside. Police cars, ambulances, and a couple of fire fighters were standing around, trying to keep peace.

I stared at the scene, before shrugging. "Well, apparently we don't have classes today. You guys wanna get pizza?"

Peter turned to stare at me, but I flicked my eyes over to Gwen, and realization painted his features.

Gwen probably noticed, but if she did, she played along. "That actually sounds great. There's a nice place around here."

We headed off, before I said. "Wait, I just remembered I have a thing in a place. Later."

I ran off. Luckily, Gwen would think that I was just a shitty wingman.

Which is wrong; I'm the best damn wingman ever.

I quickly pulled out my mask from my bag, stuffed my civilian clothes in it (revealing my suit underneath (Sidenote: I always wanted to do that)) and swung back towards the school at top speed.

I landed on a police car, scaring the crap out of two officers.

"What's the situation?" I tried to make my voice slightly deeper. I probably sounded silly.

"Uh, we think it's kind of like a school shooter situation?" the policeman looked nervous.

"What do you mean ' _kind of like_ '?"

"The 'shooter' isn't using a gun, he took this pill-"

"He's using Cape?" I turned glared at the smashed doors. "Are there any officers in there?"

"A few, they just went in, but-"

"Get them out of there. That pill he took gave him powers. I'll take care of it." I slingshot myself through the entryway before the officer could reply.

I made a three-point landing before breaking into a sprint, focusing on my hearing.

[ _In the distance, metal screeched and a shrill scream pierced the air._ ]

There. I ran as fast as I could, breaking the floor under my feet and taking advantage of my natural grace and wall-crawling abilities to cut corners.

Within seconds, I was running towards the scene- GOD DAMMIT!

Of course! Of course it had to be fucking Flash Gordon!

I mean, don't get me wrong. Flash wasn't the shooter.

He was standing, back to the wall, as a short boy with acne and thick square glasses approached menacingly, clutching a warped locker door in his hand.

He reared a fist back and was about to splatter Flash's head against the wall, when I attached a web to his elbow and held it back.

He looked at me over his shoulder, and Flash took the opportunity to run away. When he passed me, he nodded, but I ignored him.

"Don't do this, man," I frowned. "I don't want to hurt you."

The guy smiled cruelly and shook off my web- what.

How in the name of Odin's epic pectorals did he do that?

He threw the locker door at me and I barely had time to dodge.

The boom it made on the way to the place where my head had just been was pretty alarming.

I looked back, saw the door go through several walls before exiting the building, then back at the kid.

"Okay, not gonna lie: that was as awesome as it was terrifying."

His smile widened and he jumped forward. I barely had time to get on the ceiling before he hit me.

He crashed into the wall, but looked okay. He turned back, but couldn't find me.

' _Okay, he's crazy strong. That's the obvious answer. Which means it's probably the wrong one. Come on, what power lets you do all that crazy stuff? It could be aerokinesis, but that doesn't seem right, he's doing direct contact._ ' I hid on the ceiling and analyzed him as he looked around for me. ' _Plus, it looks like his intelligence went down. He hasn't said anything, and aerokinetics aren't usually dumbed down. Wait, he shrugged off my web, maybe that's the clue?_ '

I slowly walked to be behind him, still looking at him with narrowed eyes.

' _What power lets him act like he's got super strength, but also lets him shrug off something stuck on?_ '

Suddenly, it hit me.

' _Tactile telekinesis, of course!_ ' I resisted the urge to snap my fingers as I soundlessly landed behind him. ' _He's like Superboy. How do I kick his ass then?_ '

11% of a plan appeared in my head, and I decided to try it out.

I grabbed him by the neck and, before he could retaliate, I smashed him through the floor.

See, the thing about a tactile telekinetic is that they're pretty much covered in this impenetrable skin-tight aura of control.

They can lift anything with a finger, shoot themselves at stuff, analyze objects with a touch, and so on, and so forth.

Basically, they have impenetrable armor against all physical attacks. And I had nothing but physical attacks.

Now, I could probably electrocute him, or burn him, or something. But I didn't want to. I wanted to knock some sense into him and understand where he got his bottle of Cape and why he did something so stupid.

So I had to take a shot in the dark and see if his power worked like I thought. I wanted to see if I could overwhelm his armor. I needed to hit him with too much for him to hold back.

But it needed to be constant and at the same time from different sources.

He landed on the floor below, completely fine, and looked up to glare at me.

"Meep-meep," I said, before blowing a raspberry and running away.

Behind me, I heard him jump through the floor.

Good, come on and follow me, you big stupid lug.

I ran away, hoping from the ground to the walls to the roof and to the ground, being unpredictable as I hopped around, looking for a good place.

There, the gym!

I grabbed a desk from a classroom with a web, pulled it towards me, and then broke through a window with it.

"Come get me, dumbass!" I jumped out and swung through another window before landing in the middle of the gym.

A detached part of me noted how much property damage I was indirectly causing for the school.

"I'm sorry officer, I didn't mean to damage the building so much," I chuckled, hoping that I had cancelled classes for at least a week. "I definitely didn't mean to trash the stupid gym, where the coach keeps bothering my friend and I."

The Cape user smashed through the roof and landed in front of me, glaring and huffing from exertion.

"Jeez, how long do the effects of that stupid drug last, anyways?" I asked, walking around him. "I mean, you must've taken that like an hour ago. All for one guy, I must add. I know Flash's an asshole, but still, it seems a little excessive."

"Not… just… him…" he seemed to struggle to get the words out. He was shaking his head, like there was a noise only he could hear.

"Oh, and he can talk!" I pulled off my hood (how the hell did it stay on through that whole chase?) and titled my head sideways. "Now, what did you mean by that?"

"All of them… every single… _one_ …" he shook his head, and I noticed a little drool leaking from his mouth. Was that normal? Was Cape supposed to do that to him? "No one… did anything… they all just _watched_ …"

"I'm pretty sure Jake Fletcher didn't just watch." I realized how stupid doing that was just after I did it. I had pretty much just confirmed any possible suspicions that I went to Midtown.

"Fletcher… isn't always… _there_." He growled, before leaping at me.

Naturally, I jumped over his sloppy tackle.

As he pulled himself out of a crater of his own making, I moved quickly.

I attached several long webs to the top of the bleachers, ran as fast as I could up the wall, and waited in the middle of the roof for the Cape user to crawl back.

Fun fact about Midtown: the bleachers were constructed after the gym was finished. They weren't attached to anything.

Now, consider this:

On one side, you've got a few dozen tons worth of metal tubes and plastic seats. They are impossible to move for most people.

On the other side, you've got Spider-Man; who in one universe rated as the fourth strongest hero in Marvel after The Thing, Thor, and the fucking Hulk himself.

And there, in the middle, there was this punk-ass tactile telekinetic with almost no experience using his powers.

The results were as expected.

Once he was in place; I pulled on one of the webs I'd attached and let half the bleachers fall on him.

He barely bothered to lift a hand when he saw them coming, thinking it was nothing.

Speaking as someone that had tried to lift the bleachers before, let me tell you, those sum'bitches are heavy.

The cape user was soon in a squat, using both hands to hold up the bleacher, and cracking the floor under him.

Between the seats, I could see that he was grinning cockily, despite how heavy it was. He could handle that much.

Then I threw the other half of the bleachers on top of him.

A scream of pain was torn out of his throat, and I winced under my mask as I dropped myself in front of him.

A faint shimmer was on his hands and back as he held back the bleachers like Atlas. His knees were shaking, and I could see his eyelids fluttering and getting closer and closer.

I used two web lines to shoot myself back, not letting go as I took a few more steps back, and aimed.

I shot myself at top speed and smashed feet-first onto his stomach. We were out from under the bleachers before they crashed, and we smashed through a wall.

We landed outside; me in a graceful crouch, him in a sprawl.

I walked calmly over as he vomited himself into unconsciousness.

"For the record, I was open to a dialogue about our ideologies, instead of kicking your ass." I reached into his pocket and sure enough, there was a bottle of bright red pills.

"Hm, now where did you get this?" I muttered, looking the bottle over. I walked away, not quite willing to swing away just yet. "How is this related to Marks? What does a corrupt asshole have to do with street-level dealers? There's obviously a shadowy organization behind this, but which one? Could this be a HYDRA scheme? This could be some weird, stupid way to test out a new attempt at the Super-Soldier Serum. Then again, HYDRA's not the only player interested in that…"

So many questions, not enough clues... the fact that I suddenly got shot in the leg didn't help make my day get better.

I was halfway through a double take when I hit the ground and I realized that my leg was bleeding.

"What in the effervescent FUCK?" I asked, face down in the mud.

"Thought you could get away, freak?" I rolled over, gasping in pain when I briefly put weight on my wounded leg, and stared at the SWAT ass-hat holding a rifle. "I saw you standing over that kid. You think you can just roll in and beat up-"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I calmly interrupted.

The asshole blinked, as if surprised that he was getting shouted at for shooting someone.

"You shot me in the fucking leg, you cunt-basket!" I sat up and stared at the bleeding hole in my leg. "WHY THE _FUCK_ WOULD YOU DO THAT?"

"Y-you were, uh, terrorizing-?"

"Terrorizing?! Did you _not_ see the video where I stopped a crime lord?!"

"So, you're not, uh, some kind of imposter?" he winced.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, focused through the pain, and spoke in a strained tone as I worked to keep my mind.

"Listen. I'm going to swing away. I'm going to work to get rid of the Cape drug. And if I ever hear you shot another hero in any part of their body, I'm going to shove my hand up your ass, I'm gonna grab your lungs, _and I will pull them out_."

The SWAT officer was shaking.

" _Did I make myself clear_?"

"VERY CLEAR, SIR! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!" He screamed shrilly.

"Good," I put some webs on the hole in my leg. It didn't go out the other side, so that meant I also had to rip a bullet out of my body.

I struggled to my feet, flipped off the SWAT guy, and swung away.

I needed to get patched up, and I only knew one place I could do that without questions getting asked.

* * *

One of the things I did in preparation for Peter becoming Spidey was joining a first-aid course. Aunt May gave me some tips, since she worked as a nurse, so in total, I felt I was pretty prepared to help out my friend in case he ever came home bleeding.

Now that _I_ was Spider-Man, there were some problems with my brilliant plan.

For one, it's easier to pull bullets out of someone else than out of yourself.

For another, the only fully-stocked first-aid kit I knew of was kept in the Parker home bathroom.

Thus, I was forced to crawl in through the window, grab the kit, and drop myself in the bathtub as I took off my suit and with it, my web bandage.

"Oh, sure thing, me," I muttered, preparing the tools I was gonna need. I grabbed a pair of tweezers and made to pull out the bullet. "I'm just gonna get a tight suit, and I'm gonna go out and fight crooks, and while I'm at it, I'm gonna get shot by some SWAT asshole, because I don't have anything better to do with my time."

I grit my teeth, and slowly removed the bullet. I almost screamed, but I managed to get it out and dropped it on the bathtub.

"Jesus baby shit," I cursed. Briefly, I had a bizarre moment of introspection where I realized what I was doing, and what my state was.

I was sitting on a bathtub in my best friend's bathroom, operating on myself while bruises from the night before where still fading. My suit, which was sitting on the toilet's lid, had a prescription bottle full of super drugs in its pocket.

This was pretty much going to be the rest of my life, wasn't it? I couldn't turn away from being Spider-Man, so that meant that this was going to be the rest of my life. Doing what I could to keep myself alive, having only a handful of people to talk to and confide in.

I never felt as small and helpless as I did in that moment.

It took me a while to snap out of it and stop staring at the bleeding hole in my leg like an idiot. I stitched it up and was bandaging it when someone knocked on the door.

"Jake, sweetie, is that you?" the kindly voice of May Parker asked.

"Uh, yeah," I was freaking out. "I'm just, uh, I'm just using the bathroom for a sec, hope you don't mind."

"Are you okay? You sound pained."

"Uh…" I finished wrapping the bandages. "Yeah, I'm just dandy."

"I'm coming in."

Wait what?

"What? No, wait!"

It was too late. I hadn't locked the door, and it was on the other side. Nothing kept May from seeing me, or the red-stained bandages on my leg, or the Spider-Man suit on the toilet.

… Or the mask on my face that I forgot to take off.

May stared, and I stared back.

"I'm just gonna point this out," I deadpanned, "For all you knew, maybe I just had really bad diarrhea."

"WHAT THE F-"

* * *

"Honestly, we should have seen this coming." I muttered.

I was sitting in the living room with Ben to my left and Peter to my right. Ben looked a bit tired, while Peter was wringing his hands nervously.

The latter had been called over from his unexpected date with Gwen by an apoplectic May Parker. For the last five minutes, the kindly woman had been yelling her head off; ranting about how irresponsible and stupid this whole thing had been of us.

Finally, she had stopped to recover her breath, which gave me the chance to say that we should have seen the whole thing coming.

"How so?" asked Ben.

"We're not exactly great at keeping secrets," I shrugged.

"I dunno; we kept this one for about four months. That's gotta count for something."

"Four months? Has it really been that long?"

"Yeah, you started after that field trip to Oscorp, right?"

"Right, after that, I went for a little while without shooters, then after you-know-what, Peter joined, and then I went against Fisk for a couple months…" I leaned back. "Wow, time flies when you're a vigilante."

May finally finished regaining her breath. "You knew?!"

Ben nodded.

"How could you let him do something so-?"

In unison, Peter, Ben and I recited: "With great power, comes great responsibility."

May stopped. She took a second to consider those words, and all that they meant for the Parker family.

Eventually, she fell on a loveseat and sighed heavily, "Fuck."

I realized that this was the most I'd ever heard her swear in a single day. This was kinda sad, because she only said 'fuck' twice.

"So," I coughed into a fist. "This might be a bad time to mention this, but I'm gonna be away for a while. This whole Cape business is worse than I thought, and I gotta put a cork on it."

"Cape?" asked Ben. "As in, a super powered individual?"

"No, as in the drug that made your average teenager into a raging lunatic with powers." I pulled the bottle out of my pocket (May had reluctantly let me put it on since it was kind of everything I had to wear, but she made me take off my mask). "Someone's been moving the stuff around, and all the dealers are related to this guy, Marks. So, I'm gonna pay him a visit."

"Why are you going away for a while? That sounds fairly simple," Peter said.

"Well, I'm pretty sure there's a shadowy conspiracy behind this, so I'm gonna have to spend a lot of time punching secrets out of people." I blinked and turned to look at May. "Uh, sorry, I probably shouldn't-"

"I'd rather know what you're getting up to than not," she interrupted.

We sat in silence, before she spoke again.

"Can you promise you'll try to be safe?"

I considered, before nodding. "I can, yes."

"Okay," she took a deep breath, swallowed, and sighed again. "Okay, go be a hero. Damn Parker philosophy had you from the first day, I know better than to try to keep you away from it. And I know you can't promise you won't get hurt, but-"

"May, I swear that I'll do my best to stay safe."

She blinked repeatedly, and I realized she was holding back tears.

She nodded jerkily.

"Okay."

I walked over and kissed her forehead, before pulling my mask from my pocket and putting it on.

"Peter, Ben," I nodded at them. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

They nodded back.

"Give 'em hell, Tiger." Ben said.

"I'll keep looking over the Cape sample you got me, see if I can find out more about it."

I smiled, and I limped up the stairs before swinging out the bathroom window.

I had a job to do.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **I LIVE!**

 **But seriously, this stupid chapter just wouldn't get written. I'm not too happy with it, but I couldn't delay it any more.**

 **Anyways, I always planned to have May find out. Letting her find out like this was a bit of a last-minute decision, but I actually kinda liked it. The scene in the living room after that is the one I like the least, and I feel like the fights are all a little easy, but that's kind of the thing with an encyclopedic knowledge of powers and their related tropes.**

 **Anyway, please leave a review, that's how I improve.**

 **PS: There will be two heroes making an appearance in this arc.**


	7. I believe I can fall

**Chapter #6: I believe I can fall.**

I was distracted as I swung through New York, which would be an awful idea for anyone else.

My mind was awhirl with everything that had happened. Someone had gotten their hands on Cape and attacked the school to hunt down Flash, probably someone he bullied one time too many. After that, I got shot in the leg (which, by the way, still hurt) and I had to operate myself in the Parker bathroom, where May found me, after which I got her reluctant approval and _Jesus fucking shit!_

That was all way too much to have happened in like, two hours.

It wasn't even 12 o'clock yet!

I reached Allen Marks' home and set myself down in the rooftop facing his building. I sat down in the shadow of a water tower, and prepared to wait for nightfall.

Meanwhile, it was time to check out the news and see what people thought of me.

Hm, Daily Bugle was shouting about me being the bane of all freedom-loving Americans, nothing new there, although I'm surprised they got a picture of me swinging into the building.

Ah, there it was: 'picture donated by an anonymous student of Midtown high'.

Probably someone I knew. Brooks? Probably Brooks.

That would probably end up being problematic. Fuck it; I've got enough on my plate for now.

I'll probably regret not doing anything about it now.

 _I've got enough on my plate right now._

Screw it, no more Daily Bugle, it's giving me anxiety.

Others are praising me for stopping a 'dangerous, drugged up criminal', which makes my gut twist up. I don't want the kid to be labeled a crook just because of one bad day.

Should I visit him? Make a statement?

What if I screw it up? What if he screams at me and everything goes to hell?

I close the news app and open my browser with slightly heavier breathing.

' _What kind of shitty reincarnation program puts you in the Marvel universe, but doesn't get rid of your social anxiety?_ ' I wondered, loading up ' '.

For clarification, is basically a forum dedicated to superhero fanfiction. I was pretty new to the site, having discovered it a few weeks prior to the Spider-Man business, but I was already following several stories of varying quality.

The latest updated was one about Storm and Wolverine getting separated from the team and connecting as they fought to survive in the Savage Land. It was fluffy and silly, with small bits of drama and action thrown in. Not very well written, but still-

Uh, I mean…

…

… Don't judge me.

Out of curiosity, I looked myself up on the site.

Wow, three whole stories, huh? I'm honored.

Let's see, the stories were, from newest to oldest: ' _The Tricksters' Alliance_ ', ' _from a liar to another_ ' and ' _Web of Lies_ '.

I am detecting a theme, and I hate it.

Let's see, Web of Lies was about a young man called Thomas Turner who, after waking up to discover his mutant abilities, he goes on a single-minded spree to stop all crime and avenge his deceased parents.

In the process, good ol' Thomas lies, cheats, and sleeps with somewhere around 90% of the female population of New York, manipulating the feelings of everyone in his search for justice.

Of course, it was a harem story.

I closed the tab with a shudder and tried the next story: 'from a liar to another'.

Side note: story titles that are completely in lower case kinda annoy me. They always struck me as unnecessarily artsy. Mind you, it wasn't indicative of the story's quality, but it still seemed-

I'm getting off track.

The story started with me stopping a bank robbery, which was nice.

I seemed to be characterized as a gritty, clever and brutal man, who could analyze a situation within seconds.

I briefly remembered the time I went to get a glass of water from the kitchen and it took me an entire minute to realize May and Ben had been making out two meters away from me.

Ugh, I still shudder when I think about where Ben's hand was.

Anyway, nothing very interesting happened, until the-me-inside-the-story steps into a rooftop and meets Loki.

Oh, that's cool. I always thought he was an interesting character, I wonder what we do in this-

Why was Loki taking off my mask?

Why was Loki making out with me?!

WHY AM I HAVING SEX WITH LOKI ON A ROOFTOP IN THIS STORY?!

I quickly closed the tab and tried very hard not to think about it.

The next one was 'The Tricksters' Alliance'.

I gave it a quick look-over and- YEP!

It's just more rooftop sex with Loki. Christ, did the second guy start a trend?

I decided that was enough fanfiction for a while and checked the clock.

Hm, I still had a few hours until sunset.

I passed the rest time playing Tetris, which I honestly should have done from the start.

* * *

"Jesus baby shit, _I'm so bored_ ," I whined, walking around to wake up my legs. The bullet wound was probably around 75% healed, but it still kinda stung to put too much weight on it. Probably should avoid getting hurt there.

The sun was barely reaching the horizon, and it wouldn't speed up no matter how much I flipped it off.

I did a couple handstands, tried to juggle with a few chunks of concrete I pulled off of the ledge (fun fact, Spidey Sense makes juggling super easy and fun), listened to music, and even braved the depths of the internet once more.

And it _still wasn't fucking night!_

I could probably sneak out, but I know how it goes. I slip away to do some good somewhere else, then BAM!

I missed the guy by five seconds.

Speaking of, there's the guy.

…

HOLY SHIT, THERE'S THE GUY!

I swung low and scooped him up from the sidewalk and dropped him off on a rooftop before he had time to react.

"What the-?"

"Hello, _Marks_ ," I growled. He turned around and found me walking calmly over to him. I had to be careful and subtle with my intimidation here. "I have a few questions for you, and I'm sure you'll find some answers to give me."

"I don't know anything, you freak!" he said stubbornly.

Hm, I was starting to hate getting called that.

I reached down, grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and held him over the edge of the building.

"Now, now," he looked down, then back at me. "I'm sure we can avoid any unfortunate incidents if you just tell me everything you know about a certain red pill."

Marks seemed to locate his spine for long enough to sneer at me.

"Oh, _please_." He spat on my suit. "You think this is the first time a Cape interrogated me? With all the crap I've seen, your little faux-civilized speech and dangling me are just another Monday night. I've spilled secrets for _Daredevil_ , kid, and you're nothing compared to-"

I dropped him.

Obviously, I caught him, but I like to think he learned a valuable lesson about taunting.

Before he hit the ground, I slingshot myself down the side of the building, grabbed the back of his suit, and swung us dangerously close to traffic before dropping him on another rooftop.

When we landed, he was shaking and there was a suspicious stain on the front and back of his pants.

"Right, you were saying?"

* * *

He pretty much let it all loose, after that.

As I suspected, he was working with/for some shady-ass organization, which seemed like an Avenger-type problem, but this organization was testing out some kind of serum out on average crooks, which made it _my_ problem.

(Sidenote: totally called it.)

Marks didn't know which shady organization was behind the drug testing, he was just the one with the contacts and the shell companies to launder money with. He did know, however, where the pills were being manufactured and sent out for distribution.

So, there I was, standing on a rooftop in front of Roxxon headquarters.

I grumbled under my breath as I crawled in through a vent on the rooftop.

"This is just _great_ ," I muttered sarcastically. "Once more, Spider-Man has to fight a big company to protect the little people. I swear, if all my big villains have something to do with capitalism, I'm gonna be pissed."

I made my way across the building through the vents, building up a sweat. By the time I found the shady laboratory, my suit had become extremely uncomfortable and I was beyond pissed off.

I was gonna turn into Spider-Hulk out of sheer pissed-off-ness.

Luckily, a relevant and exposition-heavy conversation approached that distracted me from my troubles.

"I assure you, Mister Jones, Spider-Man won't be a problem." A stern female voice rang out. Accompanying it was the sound of heels clicking on the floor, regular steps, and something different.

It sounded like footsteps, except… squelching?

From what little I could see from the vent, there were two people talking. I couldn't spot the third… whatever it was, so I focused on those I could see.

One was an old, balding man, probably in his late thirties. He was wearing a lab coat and a nervous expression, looking around nervously and sweating to a gross degree.

(He said, sweating with his latex suit on.)

The one that'd spoken was a woman with glasses and a pantsuit, holding a clipboard and looking like your generic evil secretary.

"You say that, sure," the man said, wringing his hands, "Look, my boss wants to make sure he won't fall on us for this. Fisk was at his prime when Spider-Man got him locked up. And now that same person found someone using Cape. He's gonna get to us eventually."

"Last time he went against organized crime, it took him two months, and Fisk wasn't half as clever as he liked to think he was." The woman adjusted her glasses. "We have set up more traps than he can handle, there are very few people that know of our connection, and none can be found by beating up random dealers."

I held back a chuckle.

"I assure you, that masked bother-" she stopped, then turned to look over her shoulder.

Then they both looked up at the vent where I was hiding.

' _I should've seen this coming._ '

That's the only thing I have the time to think before the vent suddenly explodes and my world becomes shaking, pain, and so much _noise_.

I realize a little later that I'm lying face-down on the floor. With shaky arms, I pushed myself up. I felt nauseous and dizzy, but I focused through the haze and looked at the two conspirators, and at the monster behind them.

It was like someone took a person, stripped them of their meat until they were nothing but skin and bone, and then added avian features.

The person looked stretched in odd places. Their arms and legs were longer than the torso, and their mouth was replaced by a beak.

Their eyes were big, wide, and full of hatred.

"What the hell?" I whispered.

"You seem interested in Rachel here," the woman said, smirking smugly. "Her current state is the result of a new strain of –what do you people call it? Cape, that's right. After your fight with the bank robber that overdosed, my superiors decided to experiment a little, to up the dosage."

"Your superiors…?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it and slowly climbing to my feet.

"The members of an organization that… _aims_ to make the world a better place," she chuckled, clearly thinking she was clever.

"So you work for AIM then. Honestly, I was expecting HYDRA."

Her smile dropped, the balding scientist gaped at me, and the mutated woman –Rachel, that's right, tilted her head sideways.

"You… know of us?" the woman asked, now sounding a bit nervous.

"Only in passing," I shrug, putting a hand to my head. "You're the beehive guys, right?"

' _Think, Fletcher,_ ' I stared at Rachel. ' _How did she do that with the vent? She obviously noticed you and alerted those two. Did she use telepathy? How the hell can I defend myself from_ that _?_ '

" _Beehive guys_?!" the woman sputtered. Good, she was going to rant. As the dizziness faded, I swayed on my feet a little on purpose.

' _If Rachel can read my mind, then this trick is pointless. If she can't, that means it was something else._ ' I closed my eyes and shook my head again. ' _What else could it be? Something that gives spatial awareness and lets you blow stuff up?_ '

"… WE SEEK TO EXPAND THE LIMITS OF HUMAN INTELLIGENCE, TO PUSH MANKIND BEYOND THE BORDERS OF CREATION!" the evil secretary was still going.

' _Wait, she seems to be bird-themed, right? Could it be aerokinesis? It could've been simple telekinesis, though._ ' I threw myself on my knees. ' _Screw it, same rules of engagement either way. I'll throw something and see if it stops mid-air or if it gets pushed away by wind._ '

"So tell me, you ignorant _bug_." The evil secretary said, finally wrapping up. "What makes you think you can call us _the beehive guys_?"

I stared at her, not making a sound. Then, very clearly, I said, "Spiders are arachnids."

She screamed in rage and I jumped away before the floor where I'd just been standing burst apart.

' _Shit, whatever bird-brain is using, it's strong._ '

I landed on the roof, from where I ripped off a lamp and threw it at Rachel.

What sounded like a bass drop in a dubstep song threw the lamp to the side.

"Ah, sound control," I said, quickly realizing how fucked I was. "That's troublesome."

I quickly jumped out of the way before another blast demolished the roof.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, give or take, I was still running around, and for the first time in months, I was starting to run out of stamina.

"Note to self," I gasped, ducking behind a door and taking the few seconds I had before that bird-faced cunt found me again. "Bring explosives to every fight you go to from now on."

I caught my breath and rolled my shoulders. My left webshooter had run out a little while ago, and I didn't think I had much left in the right one. The right side of my suit had splatters of blood covering most of it. My face was bruised enough that I could barely keep my left eye open, and I was almost completely sure I had broken one or two ribs.

' _Okay,_ ' I thought, looking around and listening for any approaching footsteps. ' _This looks bad._ '

I looked up, and I smiled before the pain of my split lips made me stop. ' _But maybe it's gonna get better._ '

I rushed inside the room, an empty laboratory, and set up one of the… uh… one of the wide glass thingies. I started raiding nearby cabinets for chemicals with skulls on the labels and poured them all into the glass thingie.

I kept muttering to myself "just a little more, just a little more" until the door blew off its hinges.

"Fuck!" I shouted, grabbing a nearby clipboard and throwing it. It shattered before it even got close.

I ripped a chunk of the wall and threw it, and it too shattered halfway there.

Then I threw whatever the fuck it was I'd made and when Rachel shattered it mid-air, it exploded violently.

Even as I was flung back, a smile showed up in my face.

' _Rule one of Comic Book chemistry,_ ' I thought with amusement as I stood up once more, realizing with a detached sense of wonder that I'd actually smashed into the back wall of the laboratory. ' _Mix enough random shit and eventually you get explosives._ '

I walked over and looked down at Rachel. Her face and body was covered in burns, but her eyes were open and she was glaring at me with a hatred I'd never seen before.

I crouched down and punched her in the face. It was the first (non-explosive) hit I'd landed all night.

I punched, over and over and over. And even though I could tell I was doing damage, she just wouldn't go down. Even after every hit landed, she still lifted her head a little and resumed glaring.

"Just." Bam! "Stay." BAM! "The." BAM! "Fuck." **BAM!** "DOWN!" **BAM!**

Finally, her head remained on the floor, and her eyes rolled back.

I sighed, leaning my head back. I groaned a little as I rolled my neck and hissed in pain when the adrenaline finally wore out and I felt the chemical burns, cuts, and bruises that littered my body.

I was taking a second to catch my breath (again), struggling to stay awake, when suddenly I felt my Spidey Sense pull me into full awareness again.

I looked down and saw Rachel with her eyes open again.

Had her mouth not been a beak, I would've thought she was smiling when that final blast sent me flying through several floors and out the ceiling.

I fell (heh) unconscious.

* * *

I woke up mid-fall, my Spidey Sense blaring out like a klaxon inside my skull.

I looked around, thought ' _how fucking far did she send me?_ ' which was closely followed by me thinking ' _ow, everything hurts_ ', which was then followed by thinking ' _OH SHIT!_ '

I then shook my head and looked around again. I was passing the tip of a few skyscrapers, which meant I had to hurry before I became a very ugly stain on the floor.

I shot a web to a nearby building, found that I was using my empty webshooter, and tried the other one.

I barely got a few feet of web. It wouldn't be enough to bleed away my momentum and I'd need another line to land before I was faced with the same problem again.

A flash of inspiration came to me. I grabbed the web line, and waited until I was a few feet to the left of a penthouse.

I spun midair, hitting the glass ceiling with the end of the web line, and pulled myself towards it. I crashed through the glass, fell a little more, and landed on a coffee table.

As everything faded around me, I looked up and saw a pair of people approaching.

I think I slurred something resembling "sorry about your roof" but I was a bit distracted by my own loss of awareness.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter was actually slightly pre-planned, so it took less time. Go figure. Of course, I don't like it, but I've kinda come to expect that from myself.**

 **Anyway, I want to thank Akira D. Ryusuke. Your reviews really cheered me up when I was feeling down. Keep being awesome, you little ball of sunshine.** **Same to all the other readers that have favorite and/or follow this story. Y'all are the best, and I love you. Sorry I didn't say it earlier.**

 **Please leave a review!**


	8. Try, Try Again

**Chapter #7: Try, Try Again.**

Matt 'stared' at the knocked out teenager that had crashed through his ceiling and into his coffee table.

His very nice coffee table, Matt added to himself, that Foggy had gifted him for his wedding.

"I'll admit," Matt said, not really moving. "I'm a little annoyed."

"Why, because of the ceiling?" Karen asked, also staring at the teenager.

"No, I can get Rogers to fix it," the man was always looking for an excuse to put himself to work. "The table was really nice, though."

Karen hummed. "Is he fine? It's dark, so I can't really tell."

"I can smell blood and chemicals, so probably not."

They snapped out of it and hurried to help. Karen called the Night Nurse and Matt rushed to lift up the boy and laid him down in the pull out couch (said couch had seen its fair share of bleeding, masked idiots).

"Linda's on her way," Karen said. Matt nods, not really paying attention.

His radar was a bit rusty, but he was still good enough that he could tell the boy had more than a few ribs broken. Nothing untreatable, luckily, but the boy would need to rest for a couple of months.

Matt did what he could to stop the bleeding, but he'd never been the best with first-aid. Luckily, Linda was ringing the bell in no time. Karen let her in, and the Night Nurse stopped when she saw the boy in Matt's couch.

"Honestly, I expected to be treating you again, Murdock," she admitted, already getting her tools ready. She cut away the suit with scissors, still making small talk, "I didn't think you'd really go cold turkey for good."

Matt shrugged.

He watched as Linda started peeling off the kid's mask and, almost without thinking, caught the kid's hand as it was halfway to Linda's neck.

"Who… the hell…?" the kid gasped. Matt was reluctantly impressed, he knew how much it hurt to be in the state he was.

"I'm Matt Murdock, this is the Night Nurse. She helps out wounded vigilantes."

"Oh," the kid said, and then he went under again.

Raising an eyebrow, Matt dropped the kid's hand.

"I really wish I weren't so used to my patients going for my neck," Linda muttered, peeling the mask off completely. In a testament to her professionalism, she didn't even blink at his young features.

Matt asked if he could do anything to help. Linda said no. He still stood guard, even after his wife went back to bed, and after Linda finished fixing up the kid.

He had some questions he wanted to ask.

* * *

You know that feeling when you wake up and the first thing that comes to your head is this wave of all-encompassing pain and regret? That's pretty much what I felt.

After some light whining and groaning as I was pulled out of dreamland, my eyes fluttered open.

I then realized that I didn't recognize that roof, nor did I feel my mask on my face.

"Shit," I muttered, "Please tell me I didn't land on some villain's house."

"Quite the opposite, actually."

"Oh, that's actually great," I replied, before blinking and snapping-

 **OH GOD THAT WAS SO STUPID WHY DID I DO THAT EVERYTHING IS PAIN**

I stifled a scream and closed my eyes, holding back tears.

" _Why?_ " I whispered through grit teeth.

"Yeah, I would give moving in general a hard pass if I were you," the voice said, and when I opened my eyes I saw a redheaded man wearing sunglasses sitting next to wherever the hell I was (judging from the 'Living Room feel' I was getting from what I could see, probably a couch).

Wait, back up.

Red hair, sunglasses, opposite of a villain…?

"Daredevil?" I asked, with a slight trembling to my voice.

"I used to be, sure. Nowadays, I'm just Matt Murdock." He gave me a smirk. "Pleased to meet you, kid."

"I'm talking to Matt Murdock," I whispered. "This is the greatest morning of all time."

"It's two o'clock."

"This is still awesome, sir."

Daredevil wasn't all that popular back in my old universe, or at least he wasn't before Netflix happened, but I was always a fan.

Blind hero with super senses and a devil costume? Uh, yes, please?!

Then I blinked and groaned again.

"I crashed through Matt Murdock's roof," I almost face-palmed, but the pain in my everywhere stopped me. "This is the worst morning ever."

"It's still two o'clock."

"This is still awful, sir."

He chuckled. "How are you feeling, kid?"

"Everything hurts like hell," I slowly moved my head to go back to looking at the roof. "I'll be fine in a while. I lucked out; I've got a healing factor."

"Good enough to fix up those broken ribs you got?"

"Eh, first time I broke anything," I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to push back the feeling of pain. "It'll be a learning experience for everyone involved."

"Even the ones that gave you those bruises?"

"Yeah," I smiled. It wasn't nice. "They're gonna learn what happens when you fuck with me."

Silence reigned for a while.

"What's your name, kid? Your real one, I know you're Spider-Man."

"Uh…" I hesitated.

My _name_? Matt Murdock wants to know my name?

I felt a little panic building up inside me. Jake Fletcher wasn't made of the stuff to chat around with retired heroes. He was the quiet kid that only spoke up when it came to picking fights with the bullies at school.

I was always hesitant to start conversations with people that I didn't know that well. The only reason that I could pull off talking with Murdock was that I wasn't Jake at the moment. I was Spider-Man, and Spidey could do anything.

Beat up villains, talk to random redheaded models (I checked, she wasn't _the_ redhead), pal around with random people like his informants and _fucking Daredevil_?

It was a piece of cake for The Amazing Spider-Man.

Jake could do absolutely none of that.

(Well, except beating up villains. Beating up people was easy and completely stress free, socially speaking.)

I swallowed nervously. "I'm not sure I can-"

"I can hear your heartbeat racing, it's okay," I heard Murdock stand up and walk away somewhere. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked in the first place. I assumed that since your mask was off, you'd be okay with it."

My mask was off?

Huh, the roof was rather blurry, come to think of it.

…

"FUCK!" I yelled out, sitting up, yelping in pain, and falling back down. Of course, that didn't stop my swearing. "Fuck-fuck-fuck-me-fuck-shit-mierda-fuck-fuck-FUCK!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Murdock asked from wherever he was.

"Where the fuck is my mask?!" I tried to get back up, yelped again, and fell back down.

"We had to cut it out to make sure you were breathing, kid. Calm down."

"Who the fuck is ' _we_ '?!"

"Me and Night Nurse," he paused, and I realized he was using the tap. What was he doing in the kitchen? "Technically, it was just the Night Nurse, but I was there."

Night Nurse? Right, she helped out random vigilantes.

My breathing slowed down a little, and I closed my eyes.

I took a deep breath, held it, and let go.

Okay, it was gonna be okay. I had to calm down.

I was with Murdock, it's okay, he won't rat you out.

That wasn't the problem, though. I was Jake without my mask. I couldn't handle being Jake at the moment.

I was gonna have to handle it, though. Panicking wouldn't help anyone, least of all me.

A detached part of me wondered when exactly it was that my mask became a comfort blanket.

I swallowed again, took some more deep breaths, and forced myself to calm down.

"Fuck," I groaned. "Today sucks all kinds of ass."

"That's what you signed up for, kid," Murdock showed up again, and presented me with a glass of water with a bendy straw in. "Here, so you don't have to move."

I nodded gratefully and opened my mouth.

"Speaking of signing up," Murdock continued as I drank. "Why did you?"

I swallowed and spoke up, "Because I had to."

"You _had_ to?"

"With great power, comes great responsibility," I recited, feeling a little dorky doing so in front of _Daredevil_. "I have to do this, it's my duty."

Murdock didn't say anything, and I didn't feel like speaking up, so eventually I just fell asleep again.

* * *

Matt stared at the kid.

He felt some of his old habits sparking up. Measuring up the kid, analyzing his strengths and weaknesses (he was probably doing a bad job, considering he only knew him as he was after a bad fight and crashing through a roof), and even trying to memorize his heartbeat.

(Everyone's heart had the little differences that made it _theirs_ , from things like stress, caffeine intake, smoking, and so on.)

Matt felt like he was staring at a younger version of himself. He'd often thought that it was his duty to apply his intellect to uphold the law, and his senses to break it over the head of those that deserved it.

But this kid…

He was younger than Matt had been when he started.

He couldn't possible handle the horrors of Hell's Kitchen, much less _all of New York_.

He resolved to talk the kid out of the business as soon as he was fine. Even if it required a beat-down.

(It was probably going to require a beat-down. He really hoped it didn't, he was too old for that nonsense.)

* * *

I wake up a second time in much less pain. I mean, I was still in a lot of pain, but I could actually work through it.

I forced myself into a sitting position, cracked my back, and frowned at Murdock, who was still sitting there.

"Are you just staring at me as I sleep?"

"I'm blind, you know."

"I did know that, and it actually makes it creepier." I felt regret as soon as I said it. God damn it, why couldn't I be the shy kind of anxious mess? Why did I have to turn into an asshole like a god damn social werewolf?!

"That's fair." Murdock took a deep breath, and in a singular moment of clarity, I knew what was next. He was going to try to stop me, like all old heroes do (usually the retired ones) and I'd have to say no, then we fight, and then I prove myself.

I wasn't in the mood.

"HEY! Can you hand me my phone? I need to make some important calls."

Murdock seemed taken back, but he still got up and tossed me my phone.

Okay, first things first, I called Peter.

It rang once before he picked up.

"JAKE!"

"Dude, don't yell my civilian name, I'm still on Spider-Business."

"Right, sorry," he cleared his throat and tried again, "SPIDER-MAN!"

"That's better."

"Dude, you didn't show up last night!"

"I kinda went through a roof."

"What?!"

"It's cool, it was Daredevil's roof."

Murdock coughed in the background.

"Sorry, Matt Murdock's roof."

The lawyer nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, turns out there a medical plan for vigilantes."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, the plan goes: call the Night Nurse and pray you don't die before she gets here."

"… That's not funny, man."

I sighed and leaned back, covering my eyes.

"Sorry, I'm kinda maskless and it's stressing me out."

"You lost your mask?"

"My doc had to take it away, you know how it goes."

"Couldn't they just lift it?"

I blinked; then turned to look at Murdock. He coughed into his fist again, visibly uncomfortable.

"Tensions were high, I suppose," I ground out. "Anyway, I just wanted to check in and ask a favor. Two favors, actually."

"What's up?"

"First, I need you to tell May to calm down because I'm not currently dying at a faster than usual pace."

"I'll adapt that, sure."

"Second, I need you to bring my Spider Stuff here. My last suit is kinda shredded, and I ran out of webs."

"Crap, you ran out?"

"Yeah, I haven't reloaded since my fight with the Cape Overdose. That was kinda stupid of me, in hindsight."

"Isn't that the title of your autobiography?"

I laughed.

"What's the address?" asked Peter. I turned to look at Murdock again. He handed me a note, and I relayed the address to my best friend. "I'll be there in a few."

I thanked him, bid him goodbye, and then started another call.

After a few rings, James picked up.

"Yo?"

"James, hey," I smiled despite myself.

"SPIDEY!" he cheerfully greeted. "What's good, man?"

"Meh, you know me, I'm surviving despite my efforts," I joked. "Hey, quick question, what do you know about A.I.M.?"

"A.I.M.? Evil, supposedly secret organization A.I.M.?"

"The very same."

"Jack squat. I know someone that knows a lot, though."

"Great, can you bring him to me?"

"No problem. Where you at?"

"Murdock's apartment. Take a shower before you pop in."

"Murdock? As in Matt Murdock?"

"The very same."

"Damn, Spidey! You've been busy in this last… _day_."

I laughed as I passed through the address. He bid me goodbye for now and hung up.

"I don't really appreciate you brining friends into my home."

"You could've stopped me. Except you couldn't have, but I'll pretend that you could've to make you feel better."

"Yeah, listen, Spider-Man… this thing you're doing, you should-"

"I'm taking a shower." I stood up (OW) and walked around until I found a room with a shower in it.

I heard Murdock sigh behind me, but I ignored it. I was skipping ahead to the part where I proved my worth.

* * *

As I got out of the shower, I caught my reflection in the not-completely-fogged-up mirror.

I stared. I'd gotten some serious muscles on me after spending some time fighting and swinging around, plus the spider bite and all, but that's not what drew my eye.

I'd seen it in the shower but…

Starting from a little under my right shoulder and expanding like an explosion of color over my chest. A thousand little scabs littered the rest of my chest, and some cuts that weren't quite healed were healing again.

My black eyes were almost done curing, and if I tilted my head _this_ way, I could see a cut on the underside of my chin.

On my back, it was more of the same.

I sighed. I knew I was gonna get hurt for real at some point, but this was shocking to actually see.

I dried off, put on the same boxers I'd been wearing (don't judge me, I'm a busy man), put on a towel over that, and walked out.

Peter was waiting on the couch, and he paled when he saw me.

"J- Spider-Man!" He rushed over, forgetting his bag on the couch. "Are you okay?"

"I'll need the rest of the day to patch up, but I think I'll be fine." I paused, and then continued as I walked to the couch. "On that subject, what day and hour is it?"

"Uh, it's Tuesday, dude." Peter checked his phone, "And it's 06:27."

"Hm," I pulled a fresh copy of my suit, my two backup webshooters (I didn't know where the old ones where, and I doubted Murdock was going to hand them back) plus a few web cartridges from Peter's bag. I put on the upper half of my suit. "I'm expecting an informant in a while, so you might want to either get a mask or leave."

"Right, right," Peter nodded, but made no move to, well, move. I put on my spider-pants without removing the towel, removed the towel, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Peter, are you okay?"

He swallowed and rushed to pull me into a hug. I hid a wince and forced myself to act like I was perfectly okay.

"Please take care," my little brother whispered into my chest. "After Ben's… I can't see you hurt like that."

I hugged him back. "I'll be fine, Peter. You know me, I'm indestructible."

He chuckled. "Okay, okay."

He eventually tore himself off of me and walked out. I watched the door after he left for a little while, before gritting my teeth, putting on my mask, and reloading my webshooters.

"I think you should quit." Murdock said from the corner of the room, getting to the point. "You're too young."

"I think your opinion of my age or my abilities is completely irrelevant, Murdock." I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders. The stiffness was leaving my muscles, and the pain was fading.

"Kid, I don't want to hurt you, but-"

Someone knocked on the door.

"Hold that thought," I walked over and opened the door. James and a scrawny-looking blonde were standing there. "Hey guys, let's go outside to talk."

"Sure," James follows me, and the blonde follows James.

"I'm Spider-Man, by the way," I say to the mystery blonde. "You are?"

"Oh, I'm, uh, Bob, from Hydra."

I blinked, "The Nazis?"

"It's a living."

"Huh," I shrug and punch in the button for the lobby on the elevator. "Well, I need some information on A.I.M., but if you eventually feel like talking about Hydra, that'd be awesome."

"Oh, sure, I mean, I'm Jewish, so I'm totally okay with telling you everything I know about the evil Nazi organization."

"Awesome," we walk out of the elevator and then the building. "So, before Murdock comes after me or calls a pal from his Cape days to stop me, what do you know about Cape?"

"Cape? Like you?" Bob asks, frowning.

"The new drug," I explain. The name was pretty annoying. "Gives you power for a while."

"Right, that." Bob clears his throat. "My boss is actually pretty pissed about that, they stole the formula from us."

"How does it work?"

"Basically, it induces the X-Gene and triggers it for a few minutes."

"Huh, that's pretty neat, if vaguely horrifying."

"It's stops being ' _vaguely_ ' horrifying when you hear what they've been doing."

"Experimenting, I imagine. Making the effects stronger and longer?"

"Not just that. They're trying to make them _permanent_. They want to put an entire step up the evolutionary ladder into pills."

I frowned, and we stopped to wait for the light to change from red to green.

If they perfected that… those pills would never stay with A.I.M. Others would figure it out, and soon any idiot could find himself with superpowers in a bottle.

Any gang could become a team of Supervillains. You know what's worse than a rapist? A rapist that suddenly got the power of mind control because he paid five bucks for a tiny red pill, that's what.

This needed to be stopped, and it had to be stopped _yesterday_.

"Bob," I said, tone dead-serious. " _Where the hell can I find them_?"

* * *

After thanking Bob for the information, getting his number, and apologizing to James for ignoring him with a promise of more cookies (the trio loved the last batch, he told me) I swung away.

A.I.M. didn't have anyone in the city as far as Bob knew. He knew that they hadn't figured the trick to the X-Gene yet, but the clock was ticking.

Lucky me, I knew a guy that knew a gal.

And with the purpose of finding him, I found myself once more crawling through the vents at the Roxxon building.

"Note to self," I grumbled. "Next time, crash in through a window/wall."

I looked through a grate and spotted the balding scientist from last night, yelling at some terrified-looking girl, she didn't look much older than me, probably an intern.

I punched the grate open, fell out of the vent, landed on my feet, and asked, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The balding scientist ran away, a notable stain growing on his crotch. I put a web on his back and pulled, making him fall on his ass.

As I dragged him away, the intern whispered, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, kid." I replied, walking out into the hallway. The scientist tried to shrug off his lab coat to escape; but I just put a web on his hand and kept dragging until I found a large window.

Looking down, I saw an apparently-empty alley, so I kicked the window open (read: smashed it into fucking pieces) and dangled the scientist out of the window.

"OH GOD!"

"He's not here. It's just you and I, bub."

"OH GOD, HELP ME!"

I sighed, pulled him up a bit so we'd be face-to-face, and slapped him twice with my free hand.

"Listen, tell me what I want to know and I don't drop you. Keep quiet and I do. You got any questions?"

He sputtered a bit, I waited patiently. As he did, I put his other hand with the one I had a web on and stuck them both together, giving me a better hold on him.

"Listen, I'd love to tell you anything, but nothing you do could be worse than-"

"I've heard this before."

I dropped him.

Before he made it more than a couple of stories down, I shot a web and caught his hands again. I heard a sickening sound as his arms dislocated at the shoulder, and he blubbered as I pulled him up.

"So, about those fellas from A.I.M.…?"

He was crying, but he rattled out the address of the warehouse they were hiding at.

I thanked him, tossed him inside, and jumped out of the window as I swung away.

It was time for round two.

It was payback time, motherfuckers!

* * *

Matt stood on a nearby rooftop, listening as the kid swung away.

A part of him ached to pull out the old batons, to chase after him.

But he wasn't that man anymore. He'd sworn off it, and he was determined to stay out of the business.

… But he still had friends in high places.

He made the call in no time.

He knew better than to try to stop the kid without getting into a fight. But maybe his old friend could.

Matt lived in hope.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **God, why did I think starting a fic was a good idea?**

 **Anywho, here's the new chapter. Ta-da! Everyone seemed to assume that Jake had landed in the Avengers towers, I'm glad I managed to surprise you, even if it was totally by accident.**

 **Sidenote: now that I check, my chapters have been getting shorter and shorter. Next one will be extra-long, so it might take a while, but we'll meet the other hero of the arc.**

 **Uh, thanks for the reviews, and since I don't think I'm forgetting anything, that's it!**

 **Please leave a review, and thanks for reading!**


	9. Web 1

**AUTHOR'S (apologetic) NOTE:** **SO! You might have noticed that I haven't updated in a while!**

 ***ducks under thrown bottle***

 **... And that this isn't an actual chapter?**

 ***dodged thrown house***

 **SORRY! I was drawing a blank and then I realized that I actually knew how to end the arc but it was really anti-climactic and I was trying to find an alternative way but I couldn't think of anything that worked!**

 **Anyways, to fill in the blank and not loose my funky flow (don't question it, it's a Steven Universe reference) I decided to post the first of hopefully few hiatus-filling omakes! Side-Stories? Webs. We'll call 'em Webs.**

 **Uh, this first one is basically just Peter and Jake shooting the shit and talking about Peter's relationship, and since this is a conversation between two teenage boys, it might be slightly offensive to some. I tried to warn you.**

* * *

Peter and I were relaxing in the basement. I was lying on the couch, calmly reading now that I had some free time for once. Peter was over on the other side of the room, tinkering with my web-shooters to make them waterproof.

"Hey, Jake?"

"Yo."

"You notice something... weird with Aunt May lately?"

"Uhh..."

I thought about the looks she'd give me from time to time when I walked out of the basement or Peter's room. Or the way that Ben would try to choke back a chuckle whenever she leaned in to whisper something while looking at Peter and I.

"Yes, and if it's what I think it is, I hate it."

"So you've got this?"

"I have nothing ever." I paused, before going back to my book. "But yeah, I got this shit on lock."

"Good. Next problem; I got to second base with Gwen."

"That's usually not a problem, unless it comes with a terrible realization about your sexuality."

"Well, see..."

I looked over the edge of my book at Peter. He was blushing.

"Peter..." I tried to think how to phrase this next part. "You know I'm here if you need anything, right? I like to think I'm reasonably well-informed, so if you have any questions, I can do my best to-"

"What? NO! I mean, thanks, I might take you up on later-"

"Fuckin' knew it."

"But no, I'm definetly still attracted to Gwen."

"Oh. What's the problem, then?"

"Well, shortly after I made hand-to-boob contact-"

"Why would you phrase it like that you dumpster fire nerd."

"-we talked a little about what might happen if we hit the next level."

I raised a hand to stop him, reached behind the couch, and tossed him a condom.

"... how long-?"

"You don't want to know the answer to that question, Parker."

"I'll take your word for it. Anyway, no, the problem is that Gwen told me she likes when men talk dirty."

"So?"

"So, I don't know how to do that. The only thing that comes to mind when someone says to talk dirty is to shout 'BACTERIA! AREA CONTAMINATED!' followed by jumping out of a window."

"Makes sense, but I think I skipped that chapter of the Kama Sutra."

"Did you actually read that."

"Yes. It's overvalued."

"You think the Kama Sutra is overvalued?"

"Have you ever stopped to consider the kinky applications of spider powers?"

Peter paused, turned around to look at me with a deeply disturbed look.

"I know, but just think about it."

He kept looking at me like that, until he suddenly had a flash of inspiration and his mouth dropped open.

"Holy crap."

"Yup."

"I mean, Spidey Sense alone!"

"Yup."

"... you think I could replicate your powers if I used a blood sample? Something temporary, of course."

"Don't even fucking dream about it."

"Aw," Peter pouted, before turning back to keep fiddling with the web shooter. "Any ways, what do you suggest I do?"

"Well, I saw this exact same problem in a Friends episode. You just gotta say how hot she is, how horny you are, and what you wanna do to her using the most crass words in your vocabulary."

"I don't know a lot of swears, though."

"Okay, first off, you've known me since we were five, so we both know that is a filthy fucking lie. Second, you just gotta use fucking a lot."

"How so?"

"Okay, let's do a little roleplaying. Let's pretend I'm you and you're Gwen."

"Cool, I have boobs now."

I decided to ignore that comment. I cleared my throat and tried to speak huskily, "Oh, you're so fucking hot. I just wanna bend you over that table and pound you until-"

Suddenly, the door burst open and May Parker (carrying a tray full of cookies and two cups of tea (she managed not to spill anything, somehow)) ran in, screaming "YOU TWO ARE HAVING SEX!"

I looked at Peter, who was crimson red (and had been since I started talking dirty) and was also still on the other side of the room. I felt my ears and part of my cheeks burning, but I knew how to recover.

"Damn, Pete. You should've told me, I would have at least put my book down."

"JAKE! NOT THE TIME!"

"I'll, uh, I'll just put this down and leave." May muttered, leaving the tray in the ground before bolting.

(Eventually, we'd have to clarify that there was nothing between Peter and I, but that's a story for another time.)


	10. Yo No Hablo Americano

**Chapter #8: Yo No Hablo Americano.**

* * *

Slinging through the city to find the warehouse gave me plenty of time to hate myself, unfortunately.

"Seriously, Jake? _You ran out of webs?!"_ I cursed a little between sentences. "Peter would have never run out of webs like that."

The sun was well on its way to setting; I'd wasted most of a day recovering. With luck, that meant A.I.M. thought I died flying through several walls and into free air.

…

…

…

HOLY SHIT! HOW DID I **NOT** DIE?!

God damn, me, you are one tough bastard. Seriously, that was _awesome_.

I wasn't eager for a repeat, but it was nice to know I could take that kind of damage.

But the thoughts of my apparently amazing ability to accept agro (solid alliteration there, me) lead me to another concern.

I got tired way too fast fighting whatever-the-bird-lady's-name-was. Spider-Man could fight forever, if memory served.

(Not literally forever, but you get my point.)

I got tired after a few minutes of getting my shit kicked out of me. Did that mean I got a weaker type of Spider Powers for whatever reason? The Great Web of Fate or whatever it's called had something to do with Peter not dying from radiation, if I recall correctly. What exactly happened if _I_ became Spider-Man?

Between that and running out of webs…

Maybe I should have let Peter be Spider-Man?

I could have looked after him on the background. Give him alibies, toss out advice as to how to tackle the many problems of being a Cape…

… Fuck it. Moaning about it won't help anyone.

I hurried the rest of the way and crashed through the window just in time to watch a secret door closing in the middle of the floor.

I walked over, stuck my hand on it, and pulled until it came off.

"Knock-knock! Ass-kicking delivery!"

Not one of my better lines, but I never really got the hang of the fine art of quipping.

I jumped down the hole; biting back a curse as pain flared all over my body, then immediately had to start jumping around to avoid pink lasers fired at me by those bee-keeper looking motherfuckers.

I beat up anyone near me then looked around. There were three doors, no clear indications, and I suddenly remembered that in both lives I'd been blessed with an internal compass that looked more like a roulette wheel.

' _Okay, how do I go about this?_ ' I grabbed a nearby A.I.M. mook. ' _If I interrogate this guy, he'll probably lie to me. Thing is, even then, I'm probably gonna end up meeting the big guy in charge anyways, even if I just jump around like an idiot beating up everyone in sight. Interrogating this piece of shit could speed things up or slow them down._ '

I thought about it for a second.

"Screw it," I pulled of the mook's helmet –sidenote: the mook was a he– and slapped him awake. "Hey! Wake up; I need to know where I can find your boss!"

I'll spare you the details of the interrogation. Let's just say I walked out with a vague idea of how to get where I wanted, and he crawled out with a dislocated shoulder, twelve broken fingers, and probably some mild arachnophobia.

I crashed through several doors and agents, coming out of it with only some bruises on my knuckles and a small burn on my shoulder, which would have been great, except I was also bleeding from my side.

"Oh yeah, Spidey, great plan," I muttered, hiding behind one of those random crates you can find in any evil lair as bright pink lasers rained down on my position. "You need to prove that you're mature and capable enough to Daredevil, right? Why don't you just pick up your wounded ass, and get going to the evil fucking lair at top fucking speed, eh? God, I'm such an idiot."

"Would you like some help, son?"

I looked up and _holy shit_.

You know, Chris Evans really was the perfect choice to cast for Captain America, back in my old universe. You know why?

Because the good Captain is _jacked as hell_.

Like holy shit.

First time I saw him, I think I became a little gayer, just staring at his broad shoulders.

"Holy crap," I muttered. "Your shoulders are as broad as your shield!"

"Yes, the serum worked wonders," he said, smiling. Then he threw his shield and I heard it hit like seven people.

I stumbled out of cover and stuck a hand out. "I'm Spider-Man, by the way. It's an honor."

"Captain America," he shook my hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm a little banged-up, but I'm fine," I cracked my neck. I looked down the hallways, which now had several more knocked out A.I.M. agents. "Are you caught up with everything up to now?"

"Not really," Cap put his shield on his back and his hands on his waist. "Daredevil just gave me a call about a new hero that was heading off to recklessly fight a secret organization on his own despite being seriously wounded."

"In my defense…" I trailed off, before I looked awkwardly to the side and walked away.

"In your defense what?"

"Nothing, it was stupid," I admitted. "I just knew that Murdock was going to try and stop me, and I didn't feel like fighting him to prove I was mature enough to go fight evil and all that."

"Why would you fight him?"

"Isn't that how these things go?"

"Fair enough," Rogers shrugged. "So, what's all this about?"

"You know that new drug; Cape? A.I.M. is responsible for it. I tracked down someone responsible for it, got thrown through several walls and pretty far into the air before crashing through Murdock's roof."

"… And you're fine?"

"I've got a minor healing factor."

"I wouldn't call that _minor_ , but okay."

We reached a locked door, which I proceeded to kick open. Lasers were immediately fired, and I had to jump onto the roof while Cap just held up his shield.

"So, tell me more about this Cape thing," he muttered, casual as hell.

"Temporarily gives people Mutant powers. An overdose leads to horrifying disfiguring mutations. Or at least it did. They've been perfecting it; I don't know what their latest batch can do." I was sounding slightly more strained as I ran in zigzag to avoid getting shot. Once I was above the mooks, I dropped and started punching anyone I had near.

It wasn't long until Cap was beside me, and we kept talking as we fought.

"Then, is this another try to replicate the Super Soldier Serum?"

"I don't _know_ for sure…" I grabbed a mook by the neck and used them as a blunt weapon against another mook. "But yeah, it's probably involved."

"You know, it's almost like I can't go two days without someone trying to replicate it."

"That's life, Captain."

* * *

We continued like that for a while, beating the hell out of people and making conversation.

At one point, as he was throwing a mook through a wall, he asked, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking; how old are you?"

"I'm sixteen, why?"

"Why are you doing this?" He stopped to look at me, and I did the same after webbing up another guy that had been wielding a laser rifle seconds ago. "Respectfully, you're just a kid. Shouldn't you be doing kid things, instead of taking out crime lords and such?"

I was fully prepared for that question. I knew that I was going to eventually meet another Cape that was going to ask that of me. I even expected to hear that exact question from Captain America. So I just shrugged and turned his question back to him.

"Why are _you_ doing this? Hell, why did you enlist in the first place? Why did you volunteer for a dangerous experiment?

"I get that it's not the same, what with all the Nazis, but I think that our motivations were the same, at their core. We felt the need to do the right thing. Granted, you're a better man that I am, seeing how you went for it as a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, while it took a radioactive spider in the wrong place for me to go out, but still.

"I can't guarantee that I would have gone against Fisk, or against these guys, if I hadn't become a Cape. Maybe I would have become something of a sidekick if someone I knew had taken my place.

"But as it is, I have power, so I have a responsibility to use it to do the right thing. It's as simple as that."

Cap didn't say anything; he just looked at me for a while before going on.

' _Hm,_ ' I thought, ' _did I just do a Character Filibuster? That's embarrassing. And in front of Captain Muscular, too. Oh well, if Granny Weatherwax can get away with hers, I can get away with mine._ '

Then my Spidey Sense started ringing. I jumped, not even bothering to look around to see where the danger was coming from, which allowed me to see Cap get tossed away by a pink blast of energy.

"What the fuck?" Then I looked in the direction of where the blast came from. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

M.O.D.O.K. is a gigantic head with tiny limbs hanging out of it.

Sounds simple, right? Giant head, little limbs, rocket chair.

Yeah, let me tell you, it's a lot more horrifying from up close.

Words can't describe the sheer _wrongness_ that he gave off. His face was like too little skin stretched over too much skull.

"Foolish heroes, you will not-"

"God, how are you so ugly?!"

"… Excuse you?"

"You look like you gave a kiss to the front part of a moving train!" I turned to a nearby mook that was trying to pick themselves up, "I'm not imagining this, right? He really is that ugly?"

The mook didn't reply, so I turned back to M.O.D.O.K. "You're so ugly, I bet that when you look in a mirror, your reflection ducks.

"I mean, seriously, you're so ugly that when you get sick, they probably call the vet.

"You should be a robber, 'cause you're so ugly, when you walk into a bar they turn off the cameras.

"If ugliness were bricks, you'd be the Great Wall of China.

"You're so ugly, that you went into a haunted house and came out with an application.

"You were so ugly at birth that your parents wanted to name you Shit Happens.

"You're so ugly that your face is the perfect form of birth control.

"You're so ugly, you have to Trick or Treat over phone."

I stopped to catch my breath. M.O.D.O.K. opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted.

"You look like an avocado had sex with another, older avocado.

"You look like a geographical map of Utah.

"You look like a condom with teeth.

"You're so ugly, you make onions cry.

"You're so ugly, you make blind kids cry.

"You're so ugly, farmers use your picture as a scarecrow.

"You're so ugly that when you throw a boomerang, it doesn't come back.

"You're so ugly that you couldn't get a date off of the calendar.

"You're so ugly that when your mother when into labor, the doctors went on strike.

"You're so ugly, that… uh…"

I stopped and scratched my chin.

"Shit, I'm out of jokes. Give me a sec, I'll Google something."

That's the last thing I remembered before he blasted me to kingdom come.

It was totally fucking worth it.

* * *

I woke up later in a hospital room. My suit was still on, and my mask was pulled up just over my nose, I imagine they did that to make breathing easier for me.

I sat up, pulled my mask down and put my hood on.

Had I been in a better state, I would have been rational, stopped to think, and figured out where I was.

Seeing how I was running on about five hours of shitty sleep, my everywhere was still in pretty deep pain, and my last memory was that of getting blasted by a giant floating head I'd decided to insult instead of fighting, I did the next best thing I could.

I smashed through the only door I could find, completely ready to fight anyone and everyone in my way.

I came out to an empty hallway, so I ran in a random direction and kept going until I found a corner to turn.

Then I found myself in some kind of lounge room, which had several couches and several large windows that showed the New York skyline.

Again, had I been more rational, I would have seen something odd about that, but my only thought was ' _an exit, awesome_ '.

I checked my wrists, saw that my webshooters were still on, shot two webs to the nearest couch, swung it over my head, and threw it at a window.

The window got some cracks on it, but didn't break completely.

I was about to test what integrity it had left, until a laser scorched the floor in front of me.

I turned and saw Iron Man standing there, fully armored and ready to take me out.

"Calm down, kid," he pointed his repulsors at me. "Let's not toss any more of my furniture around."

I stared at him, and my brain finally started functioning again. "So, Cap saved me?"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

"Right, right," I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm still kind of asleep."

Iron Man kept silent for a moment, then the suit opened up and Tony Stark walked out, wearing a suit that was probably worth more than my kidneys.

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Yeah."

"I'll make some. Take a seat."

"Thanks."

I grabbed the webs attached to the couch I'd thrown, pulled it over to me, put it back where it was, and sat down on it.

Then I sank into it, because _god damn._

"This is the greatest couch in the universe," I muttered, closing my eyes and relaxing every muscle in my body. "I'm going to marry it. I'm planning the ceremony right now. We're having a spring wedding."

"Sheila is mine, you little couch thief," Tony Stark said, coming back over holding two cups of coffee. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I repeatedly got the shit kicked out of me," I grabbed the cup, muttering my thanks, and then took a sip before wincing at the taste. "You got any sugar?"

He handed me a little bowl filled with sugar cubes. I put five in and tried again. It was much better after that.

"Skipping right over how disgusting that just was…" Tony Stark said, sitting down on the couch in front of me. "What you did was incredibly stupid."

"… As in, everything I ever did in my life, recent events, or something in particular?"

He seemed to think it over before answering. "I don't know you that well, so for now, let's say that recent events were stupid."

"Agreed," I shrugged, before sipping my coffee. "What happened after I got knocked out?"

"Cap took care of it. A.I.M.'s base got blow up, M.O.D.O.K. ran away. The formula for that Cape drug was destroyed. He's cleaning up what's left as we speak." He leaned forward. "What I want to talk about is you."

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I want you to sign the accords."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you ordering me to do that?"

"Yes. You're breaking the law doing what you do. I'll admit that you showed promise with how you handled Fisk, but this whole A.I.M. incident proves that you need to be watched over."

"You don't have a lot of experience with teenagers, do you?" I sipped my coffee. "I mean, you just told one that he has to sign a government paper to get a babysitter, and you seem convinced that I'll actually go ahead and do it."

"You're breaking the law, kid."

"In the words of that great philosopher and poet, Ice Cube: fuck the police."

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, but he managed to keep a straight face.

"Why don't you want to sign the Accords?"

"Have you read the damn things? At my age, I might as well be selling away my civil rights for a box of air. Hell, if I did that, at least I'd get a box."

His mouth twitched again. "Stop joking, this is serious."

"Okay, okay," I put down my mug on the floor, because I'm uselessly petty like that. "I'm not signing jack. Sorry, I hope we can work together unofficially at some point."

"… You know, a responsible adult would probably stop you from going out."

"Well, lucky for me, it's just us here." I got up and stretched. "Can these windows open?"

Tony Stark jerked his head to the side and the one I almost broke opened.

"Thanks," I started heading out before he called out for me.

"I could make you a suit, you know."

I turned back, eyebrow raised and ready, and he drank from his mug.

"Hypothetically speaking, I could make you something so that if you're going to be stupid, at least you won't die doing it."

"I appreciate the offer, sir," I shot a web without looking and smirked. "But I don't see the need to swing around with a bunch of trackers on me."

Tony Stark smirked back. "Smart kid, huh?"

"Not really."

I jumped out the window, and once I was out of sight and on steady ground, I proceeded to freak the hell out over the fact that _I had just spent a shitload of time bantering with TONY STARK_.

* * *

I found my way home, entering through the bathroom's window again (after checking that no one was inside) and then stealthily walked down to the guest room.

I took off my mask and lied down on my bed.

I had seriously fucked up.

I rushed everything; I got my ass kicked left and right, and had to have my slack picked up by fucking Captain America.

I tried to move up against a slightly bigger enemy and I got fucked up six ways to Sunday.

Peter would have done better. Peter would be better at everything.

I justified being Spider-Man to myself by thinking that at least I was sparing Peter from some of the worst pain he could possibly experience, but what if I'm making everything worse for _everyone_ by being Spider-Man?

Peter's a genius, he could probably figure out a way to turn off my powers. He could also figure out how to gift them to someone else.

I stared at my mask.

Who would I give it to? There's no way I'm putting Peter through the pain of being Spidey, so…

Who would be worthy? Should I even be the one that makes that call? What made _me_ worthy? I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, where the _hell_ did I get off thinking shit like that?

I wasn't worthy of the mantle.

The door opened and May stood there.

"I thought I heard a hero skulking around. You gave us a scare, you know. You were gone for so long."

I didn't answer; I just stared at her before looking up.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

I had a lump in my throat, but I forced myself to answer. "I recently found that I'm a really shitty hero."

"… I want to cheer you up, but I honestly never prepared for this."

That got a chuckle out of me. She gestured for me to make space and sat down next to me after I did so.

"What happened, sweetie?"

"I tried to take on a criminal organization that was producing a drug that gives people powers. I fucked up and Captain America had to save my ass."

"You met Captain America?"

"Yeah, but that really isn't the point, May."

"Sorry, sorry. What did you do wrong?"

"I got cocky. I rushed in over and over again, like an idiot. I got hurt and wouldn't wait to heal because I just _had_ to deal with this. I did everything that I would yell at someone else for doing."

"Are you still hurt?"

"I'll be fine."

"Well… how long have you been doing this? A few months?"

"That sounds about right, I guess."

"And do you really think you'll get it perfectly right off the bat?"

"I know I'm being unrealistic, but…"

But Peter could do it better.

"… I feel that someone else would be better. I feel like I shouldn't be the one that got the powers."

"Well, who _would_ be better?"

Like hell I'm gonna tell her that her actual child should be putting himself in danger instead of me.

"I dunno. _Someone_."

May put a hand on my head and tussled my hair. "Unfortunately, Mister Perfect Hero isn't around, and he isn't you. If it were up to me, no one would have to deal with the powers. But we don't live in our fantasies, Jake. We live here, so we should deal with what's here with us.

"I know better than to try and tell you to hang up the mask. I can see how much it means to you. But you don't need to rush in without help, and you don't need to hurry into fighting big guys. You don't need to hurry at all. I don't think there are any guidelines for things like this, dear.

"Just do what you can. That's the best anyone can do."

May Parker is a saint.

That's all that needs to be said.

* * *

"So you met Tony Stark?" Peter asked, once dinner had been had and we were relaxing in his room. "What was that like?"

"It was cool," I had my eyes closed and I was just trying to relax. I missed Sheila the Couch already. "I'm pretty sure he put a tracker on my suit."

"WHAT?" he shouted.

"Don't worry, he's not gonna make a move."

I thought, at least. I knew a bit about Stark from my previous life and my talk with him, and while I didn't doubt that he'd show up uninvited in my room, he would probably not do so with the intent of locking me up.

"How do you know that?"

"We bonded over how much we wanted to fuck his furniture."

"… You can be so weird sometimes, man."

I chuckled.

Later, in the deep hours of the night, I thought some more about worthiness.

* * *

Tony chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Steve asked; looking over his friend's shoulder to see that he was listening on someone.

"Spidey-Boy knew I was spying on him and didn't do anything about it because he didn't think I was going to do something about it."

"Is that a power move?" Lingo seemed to be evolving faster and faster as time moved on. Steve wasn't that great at keeping up.

"Yup. Too bad I made a better one.

* * *

M.O.D.O.K. was furious. That insolent fool, Captain America, had foiled his brilliant plans once more. Not only that, but his little friend had been the one to unveil his magnificent machinations, and after that he'd spent entire minutes mocking his appearance!

This insult would not stand.

Luckily, the smartest being in the planet had managed to take something that would allow him to take vengeance against that insufferable arachnid.

As he stared at the vial full of Spider-Man's blood, a wicked grin spread across M.O.D.O.K.'s lips.

* * *

A few days after the Cape incident, school had reopened (the student body loved me for giving them a week off from school after I trashed a bunch of shit in my fight) and I was walking home alone (Peter was hanging out with Gwen) when Matt Murdock showed up in my path.

I stopped in front of him. "Hell of a way to make an entrance, Murdock. You just creepily show up in my civilian life, all stalker-like."

"What if I weren't here to meet you?"

I rolled my eyes, "Please. I imagine it was Stark that gave you my identity, schedule, and such?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I guess this is just further evidence that I'm doing the right thing."

"I'm not afraid of beating a blind man's ass, Murdock."

"I'm not going to fight you."

"Great, because that was a lie. You could mop the floor with me."

"Shut up and listen," I did as I was told.

"You have good instincts," That was not true.

"But you're sloppy," That, however, was very much true.

"I know already that even if I forbid you from going out and getting yourself killed, you'd be too stubborn not to do so," Also true.

"So the next best thing is to make sure you don't get yourself killed." Wait what.

I took a step back. "Wait, you mean…?"

"Would you like for me to train you? Everything I know, everything I was trained on and everything I picked up in my career. What do you say?"

I swallowed nervously. This was serious. Daredevil was one of the best melee fighters in Marvel, as far as I could remember.

And he was offering to teach me.

…

… I wasn't worthy of being Spider-Man.

… But maybe I could grow to be worthy.

I nodded with an eager smile.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **That was totally not worth the wait, huh?**

 **Yeah, I guess I should've planned this arc better, I was mostly writing it by the seat of my pants. The only thing I actually had planned was that Jake wouldn't be the one to save the day. I wanted him to get insecure about his role as Spider-Man, because, well, that's an accurate representation of myself.**

 **Well, that caps the 'Cape' arc and starts the 'Training with Daredevil' arc. In this one, the Fantastic Four, Black Widow, Doc Ock, and Norman Osborn shall be introduced.**


	11. (Obligatory Rocky Reference)

**Chapter #09: Obligatory Rocky Reference**

* * *

After about three weeks of resting and waiting for my health to be back at 100% I started training with Murdock.

After I accepted his offer, he gave me a note with the address to his gym and instructions to go there in civilian clothing. He mentioned that I could take a mask or something if it made me comfortable, but I said that if we were going to have a mentor-apprentice thing going on, I should be comfortable with him knowing who I am.

The gym was clearly abandoned, and there was a layer of dust so big on the floor at first glance I thought it was a fucking carpet.

Murdock was already there, walking around without really moving his head in anything's direction. If my hunch was correct, I'd guess that this was his old gym, the one he and his late father worked out in.

"Getting nostalgic?" I asked, walking slowly towards him.

He nodded slightly. "My father used to train here."

"Jack Murdock, right?" He turned his head towards me. "I saw some of his old fights on MeTube. He was a hell of a fighter. One time he knocked out a man with two punches."

A corner of his mouth tugged upwards, "Yeah. He was the best boxer I ever knew. Very little of that had to do with his fighting skill, though."

"I wish I could have met him."

"He probably would have disapproved of what we're doing. He would have disapproved of all this Cape stuff, really." Murdock tilted his head upwards. I wondered if he made those gestures to accommodate others, seeing how he couldn't, well, _see_. "He hated violence, ironically. He was a boxer because that's all he knew, and he wanted better for me."

"Is that why you quit? You finally hit the age when everything your parents ever told you suddenly makes a shit-ton of sense?"

"It was partially because of that, yes."

I took the hint that he didn't want to talk about it.

The truth was that no one really knows why Murdock quit. I looked it up once; Foggy Nelson and Karen Page were both alive and well, the last time he'd been seen wearing the tights was shortly after his identity was revealed, in one of those big battles between a crap-ton of aliens and a shit-ton of Avengers and he seemed fine.

I wanted to ask, but I decided against pissing off my would-be mentor so soon.

Murdock had me run a few laps around the gym to warm up. As I ran, he began talking.

"So, give me a run-down of your abilities."

"I have enhanced speed, strength, stamina and senses," I wasn't even winded as I listed off my abilities. "Also, the ability to cling to anything that touches my skin; which can be applied through thin clothes, a minor healing factor, my Spider-Sense, improved sense of balance, improved dexterity and improved contortionism."

I tried that last one and yes, I _can_ put my knees behind my ears bending backwards. It didn't even hurt that much.

"What's Spider-Sense?" Murdock questioned.

"Basically, I have awareness of everything around me at all times. It's what allows me to shoot my webs despite being near-sighted and kind of a crappy shot."

"And you can't shoot your webs naturally?"

"No, that's from my shooters, which had run out of webs when you found me."

"Right, when I _found_ you." I didn't care for the emphasis he put in that word. "I take it your friend was the one that designed them?"

"Yeah."

"Are you gonna tell me about him?"

"Not on your life."

"You know you put him in danger when you announced to the whole wide world that you had a partner, right?"

I stopped dead where I was. "What?"

"When you took down Fisk, you said that your friend hacked the cameras, which was transmitted to everyone everywhere. How long do you think until someone decides to find where you hang your tights?"

I couldn't move. I could barely breathe.

I completely missed that. I didn't even think about it when I was making my speech ( _which I had fucking practiced dammit_ ). Peter hadn't said anything either, did he not notice? Oh god, May and Ben! It was bad enough that Ben had the copyright to Spider-Man's image!

At first I thought we could play that off as a clever old man that had gotten the idea before anyone else, but what if they thought _he_ was my partner?

I was shaking with panic before Murdock suddenly clapped his hands in front of me.

"Kid, calm the hell down!" I stared at him, almost uncomprehending. "It's okay. You can't fix the past, but you can work towards never making the same mistake again."

I nodded. Once I was calm, I went back to running and talking.

Murdock had me work out with some of the equipment, to get a rhythm going with the work out. After a few hours, he told me to come back every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and that he'd have a special training for my powers ready by then.

* * *

"Okay, I'm almost done," Peter said, making me look up from my Chemistry homework. "A little more work and your webshooters should be waterproof and capable of holding twice as much web fluid."

"Bitchin'," I glared at my messy notes. "Then you can get to work on poison so I can either kill myself or our teacher."

"I'd recommend the teacher," Peter joked, before getting serious. "Hey, I gotta ask you for a favour."

"Dude, if you wanna put on the suit, you can just go ahead."

"No, it's not that this time." Peter frowned, and pointed a screwdriver at me. "You have to go home as soon as this is finished."

"I am home."

"I mean your actual house, Jake."

I stared at him blankly for a second before realizing what he meant. "OH! Yeah, but why?"

Peter didn't respond, suddenly loosing courage and getting red.

"Peter…?" a teasing smirk started appearing on my face. "Did you invite Gwen over? Are you going to start spending time on the basement?"

Peter got even redder.

"My god," I said, as dramatically as possible. "I don't know if I can handle this betrayal; my own brother, asking me to leave for his girlfriend. Such a rupture of the Bro Code cannot stand. In my own house, no less."

"You don't even live here!" Peter shouted, finally losing his patience.

"Details," I laughed. I put my stuff on my bag, which took some manoeuvring, since I was upside-down. "Do you want me to take May and Ben out for a night in the town? See if you can reach third base?"

"… Could you actually do that?"

"Peter, you pervert," I laughed.

"You suggested it!"

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door of the basement, and as it opened, we heard Gwen say, "Hey guys, your aunt let me in. Are you two decent?"

I looked down (up?) at my body. I was almost fully suited up, minus my boots, gloves and mask. I was sitting on the roof. Peter was working on my webshooters. _I didn't have my mask on_.

Gwen entered the basement, and stared at me. Her jaw dropped.

Resignation filled me and I turned to look at Peter. "Pete, help, gravity stopped working."

I'm proud that I managed to say it in a perfect deadpan.

* * *

"You know, I'm starting to think I suck at keeping a secret identity. It's a lot harder than I expected."

"You do need to work on that, man."

Gwen carried on ranting, without pausing despite our talking. "- CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THIS IS SUCH-"

"Okay, stop," I said, raising my voice a bit. Gwen turned to glare at me, and before she could start ranting again, I continued. "This wasn't Peter's secret to tell, it was mine. And I had no reason to tell you."

Gwen opened her mouth, closed it, opened again and raised a finger, then closed it and dropped the finger. "Crap, you're right."

"Of course I am. I'm a hero. On that note, I'm gonna do the heroic thing and get the hell out of here so you two can work this out alone."

I jumped out of a window, my super suit hidden under civilian clothes already.

I could hear Peter muttering cuss words under his breath.

* * *

After did my basic body training, I stared at Murdock as he aimed a cylinder at me.

"… Is that a tennis ball cannon?"

"Yes."

"… What are you going to- JESUS!"

Apparently, the stupid cannon had been modified to shoot the damn things super-fast.

I barely managed to jump out of the way before I had to pull a Neo and bend backwards at the waist to dodge it, which then turned into a backwards cartwheel as he shot again.

"What the fuck, Murdock?!"

"You said your sixth sense-"

"Spidey Sense!"

" _Sixth sense_ gives you tunnel vision when you get into a fight, right?"

"So what?" I said, right before a ball bounced off a wall and hit me in the back of the head when I jumped away from another.

As I stumbled, every single ball that Murdock had fired bounces in the perfect angle to hit me all over my body and face.

"I'm going to keep firing at you with these, and you're going to keep dodging until you learn to have perfect awareness of everything at all times." Murdock was smirking. "Now toss the balls over, I'm gonna hit you with them again."

"I was gonna make an innuendo, but with the given options, I'd really rather not."

"You mean an in-your-end-oh?"

"I hate you."

He shot me in the face.

* * *

"So, do you, like, lay eggs?"

"Do you use the word 'like' like a comma?"

Gwen gave me a _look_ and threw a fry at my face, which I caught in my teeth.

"But seriously, do you?"

"I am neither a spider nor a female, so I'd have to say I probably don't."

"Right, that makes sense," Gwen took a bite out of her burger, then, without even swallowing, she asked, "Can you summon an army of spiders?"

I sighed. Peter had proposed that we go to a dinner to talk about the costumed elephant in the room. So far all that had been accomplished was that we ordered food and made Peter laugh his ass off.

"I'm not Taylor Hebert, so I'd have to say that no, I can't do that."

"Have you ever tried?"

I opened my mouth, stopped, focused for a little while, then answered. "Just did, I got nothing."

"Okay, who's Taylor Hebert, by the way?"

As I explained and Gwen asked her questions, the day went on.

Eventually, we parted ways. She gave me a nod and she gave Peter a kiss.

"So, that went well." Peter said while we walked home.

"You think so?" I said, ducking into an alley to stop a mugging before coming out and catching up with Peter, who didn't even stop.

"Yeah! I think you and Gwen might get along a lot better from now on."

I shrugged.

* * *

I knocked on the window, and Duke opened.

"Guys, our valiant hero is here!"

"Did he bring cookies?"

I raised the Tupperware I was holding.

"He did!"

"Let him in then!"

A few minutes later, we were all lazing around the apartment, munching on cookies and watching Lord of the Rings.

"I still like Harry Potter better," I said.

"I don't care for the racial insensitivity," Ace replied with her mouth full.

"Right, because these movies are so much better. There's not a single black person in the Fellowship, and when Gandalf died, he came back whiter!"

James coughed and nodded. "Spidey's got a point there."

"Personally, I really enjoy the Artemis Fowl series."

"Oh, shut up, Duke, you just like to feel smart." James flipped off his friend. "Percy Jackson on the other hand? Now _that_ is a good book series."

We all voiced our agreement.

"Hey, how come you never seem high, man?" Ace asked me out of nowhere.

"I have an advanced metabolism. I think it has to do with my healing or whatever. I can't get drunk, high, or poisoned."

"Shit, really?"

"I mean, I _can_ if I drink a shit-ton of booze and/or poison, or if I smoke _all_ the pot, but that seems like a lot of effort for a high that'll last a few minutes at most."

"Man," James said, with the tone of someone that had just heard their dog had cancer. "I never knew being a Cape could have such horrible repercussions."

I nodded.

"Wait, does that mean you've been wasting our pot all this time?" Ace asked, suddenly scandalized.

"I mean, it felt rude not to?"

And then I was dodging everything Ace could find and throw at me.

* * *

"Eventually Ace forgave me, after I mentioned the cookies," I explained, catching one of the tennis balls and throwing it out of the way as I jumped out of the way off three different ones.

I was improving, slowly but surely.

Right as I thought that, a ball hit me in the mouth.

"How do you even get them to bounce like that?" I asked, no longer annoyed due to exposure therapy.

"I think the more important question is 'since when do you hang out with potheads?" Murdock said, in that judging 'all-drugs-are-equally-bad' tone people use when they don't know jack about the subject except for what they saw in PSA.

"Okay, first off, they're people with opinions, dreams and people-ish things," I caught a tennis ball and threw it at his head. He caught it and put it back in the cannon. "Second, they're my informants. They all have connections, and they let me know when shit's going down. And third, they're my friends, so maybe don't talk about them in that tone."

"I guess I just expected better from Spider-Man," Murdock said.

"Okay, pot is nowhere- OW!" a ball bounced and hit me in the eye. I didn't stop moving, though, so I stayed in the game. "Pot is nowhere near as bad as some of the other stuff out there. And you're not gonna sit there and judge me for relaxing with friends while the only reason our buddy Steve Rogers' formerly-asthmatic ass can breathe is that he took some drugs."

I bounced around some more, getting near Murdock. The rule was that if I managed to take the cannon out of his hands, I was ready for the next level.

"I don't agree, but I guess I am being a bit preachy." He shot the ground and the ball bounced right into my face as I was getting near. "You're still far from done with this particular exercise, though."

"I hate you."

* * *

"Shocker!" I greeted, feeling a smile appear on my face, "What's up, man?"

"Oh, you know," he gestured at the bags filled with money, "Robbing banks and shit."

"Cool, cool," I readied my webshooters, "You ready to fight?"

"Sure," he shrugged, before blasting me with his gauntlets.

Around an hour later, Shocker was webbed to the floor, I was sitting next to him and watching the clouds, and the bank workers were putting the money back.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," I said. "You made your gauntlets yourself, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"So, how come you're a villain? Mind you, I'm no scientist, but it seems to me that you could do some honest work as an engineer, or a hero if you're too attached to the mask."

"I dunno," Shocker sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I thought about the engineer life, but there's always this part of me that says ' _not yet_ ', you know. A part that pushes me to try and keep going until I finally get it right."

"And how would you do that?"

"I'll tell you when I get it right."

I chuckled. "And what about hero work? Personally, I find it pretty rewarding."

"Yeah, listen," Shocker turned to look at me as much as he could while webbed face-down to the floor. "Villains don't follow a code or anything, but there is this general idea that retiring is okay, retiring then giving up some of your former buddies is grounds for murder, and retiring to be a hero is grounds for Fates Worse Than Death."

"Oh," I went back to looking at the clouds, "Hey, Shocker?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever go hero, let me know. I'll watch your back."

"Thanks, Web-head." Shocker went back to lying face down. "And my name is Herman."

* * *

"Why black and blue?"

I looked up from my biology homework. "What?"

"Why black and blue?" Gwen repeated. "Why not… green and black? Or red and blue?"

"Green is a villain's colour, and red and blue is too U.S. flag-ish for my taste."

"Green is my favourite colour!"

"Peter, your wife is a villain."

"If you weren't on the roof, I'd shout ' _that's my wife!_ ' and punch you." Peter said, completely deadpan.

"I'd let you," I replied in an equal deadpan. "A punch from you is like being slapped with a wet bagel."

We were all sitting around the basement, screwing around. Luckily, Gwen's questions had been slowing down lately, but they still popped up from time to time.

Suddenly, I remembered something.

"Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the sexy cat lady?"

"No, and I am horrified that you never did." Peter immediately responds.

"Okay, so I was patrolling one night, and I happen to swing by a museum…"

* * *

 _Just as I was about to call it a night, I saw something I couldn't believe: a grey-haired woman in a tight black leather outfit with kitty-ears and a domino mask, holding a huge diamond and slowly exiting the museum through a window._

 _I approached stealthily and, once I was in position, cupped my hands around my face like the Home Alone kid and made the loudest, fakest gasp I could manage._

" _Oh my gosh!" I said, "Are you a cat-themed thief?"_

 _The lady jumped in place, startled, before turning to look at me. Her eyebrow raised, and she gave me what I think she thought was a seductive smile._

" _Why, yes I am! What, do you happen to have a-"_

" _I've been preparing for this since I put on the mask!" I cheered, before taking out a collection of flash cards from one of my pockets. I cleared my throat and read the first one: "I'm purr-ity sure that doesn't belong to you, miss. Eh?"_

 _The look she gave me was worth all the diamonds in the world._

" _Not to your liking? That's fine, I got more."_

" _Please don't-"_

 _I put on my best 'cop' voice. "You're going away fur a long time! Eh?"_

" _Are all of those just stupid cat puns?"_

" _You betcha! Let's see, here's a good one: you might be headed for jail, but stay paw-sitive! I'm sure you'll paw-bational soon! Eh?"_

" _I'm going to attack you, now."_

 _She jumped forward and swiped at me with sharp claws, but I flipped away, landing on the edge of the roof. I kept reading my cards._

" _There's no need to give me that cat-itude, young lady!"_

 _She chased me over a few rooftops, and I kept dodging, just making jokes._

" _In meow-ments like this, I like to try and talk things out."_

" _Stop."_

" _What do you get when you put two cats together and stack one between them? A purr-amid!"_

" _Stop!"_

" _Oh man, you have_ cat _to be_ kitten _me! How can you jump a-_ rawr _in that_ meow _-fit?"_

" _Please, just stop!"_

" _You know, now that I got these puns out of my chest, I'm_ feline _pretty good!"_

" _I'll give back the diamond, just please stop and let me punch you in the face!"_

" _I'm not into that, sorry. I'm no meow-sochist. HA! I came up with that one in the spot!"_

" _ARGH!"_

 _We kept going like that until eventually I took the trade and let her punch me in exchange for the diamond. I still webbed her up and took her to the police, of course, but I think she wasn't even mad after she got to hit me._

 _After that, I took the diamond to the museum and went back home._

* * *

Gwen was rolling around on the floor laughing, while Peter stared at me with a hanging jaw.

"No way."

"Yes way."

"You did _not_ defeat a sexy cat thief with bad puns."

"First off, my puns aren't bad, and second, it's the truth." I waited for a beat to pass before delivering the punch line. "I'm not _lion_."

I almost fell off the roof from how hard I was laughing at the face of pure hatred that Peter gave me.

* * *

I was almost managingto complete the dodge-training. I was almost completely rid of the tunnel-vision, and I had noticed that I was getting around faster whenever I swung around, but I still kept getting hit when I tried to approach Murdock.

I decided to try something new that day.

As soon as the first ball was shot, I caught it and threw it at the ball behind Murdock, making it bounce and go for the hand that held the cannon. Of course, he caught it, but it was proof of something: all this time, I haven't just been learning to dodge.

Murdock's special training had been slowly showing me how certain angles of impact and certain amounts of force could make objects bounce. He taught me how to do trick shots without me knowing.

"Murdock, you magnificent bastard," I was grinning, and so was he.

"Congratulations, kid. You just passed to stage two of your training. I'm going to be moving around now, and you have to nail me in the head."

"Do I get my own cannon?"

He answered me by shooting me in the face.

I caught it, of course.

* * *

"That's weird," Peter said.

"Did you find the meaning of life in your pizza?" I asked, not looking up from my lunch.

"No, Flash's getting rejected from Jock-land." I turned and saw that, indeed, Flash was frowning while his teammates (former teammates? He wasn't wearing his Letterman Jacket) laughed. He was standing, holding his tray and looking like a kicked puppy, while the rest was sitting on their favourite table, looking happy.

As he walked away, head ducked and frowning, I raised my voice. "Hey, Flash?"

He sighed and turned to look at me. "What?"

"D'you want to sit with us?"

Peter, Flash and I all expected me to kick him while he was down. But that wasn't me, despite how often it almost was.

"Uh, no thanks?" he seemed unsure. "I'm just gonna sit alone, I think."

"Right," I shrugged and went back to my lunch.

As Flash walked away and Peter gave me a look, I thought something good might come of that interaction.

* * *

After discussing it with Murdock, I placed two more orders on Peter. He was actually pretty excited about them; I was surprised how much he was getting into his role as my Tech Support Sidekick.

"Okay, with this, the modifications to your webshooters are finished!" my friend said, handing me the tools in question.

The webshooters, at the start, had been two bracelets that surrounding my entire wrist, with a little hole that the fluid came out of. You know what it looks like.

With further modifications, it had changed so it could be resistant to water and electricity, capable of storing more Web Fluid and using it more efficiently. The version I'd been using before Peter was done with his latest modifications looked like the one from the PS4 Spider-Man game: a strap around the top of the wrist, a little down the wrist crease, the little thing that shoots out the webs, and under that, the place where I put the cartridges.

The new version looked pretty much the same, except the strap was a little thicker and there was a thick box connected to it from the other side of my wrist. If I were to push down on the box five times fast, the shooter would start beeping before all the webs left in the cartridge would shoot out and wrap around my hand and wrist, working like those boxer-bandage-things.

The idea was that it would allow me to punch things harder without breaking anything, plus I'd be covering my fists in harder-than-steel wrappings. Spider-Peter sometimes did that, but it wasn't a trick he used often. I wouldn't use it _all the time_ , on account of how web-expensive it was, but it would aid my fighting style a lot.

I tried them on and activated the Spider Wrappings (the name was my idea, and I'm damn proud of it no matter how much Peter mocked it), then threw a few experimental punches.

"I like it," I said. "How do I get these off?"

"Just press the box five times fast again." I did as he said and the wrappings cut off and fell to the floor. "Now, the other thing was tricky. I couldn't make it a ball like you said, because that'd be too big to be efficient, so instead I made pills. They still bounce, though."

He tossed me one of the pills in question and I gave it a look over. My idea had been that Peter could make some kind of web-bomb. Something that I could activate and bounce around before it trapped everything in webs.

After some experimenting, Peter explained, my friend came up with tiny pills that I could activate by crushing them and have five seconds before they burst. They were pretty tough, so anyone without my strength would need a hammer or something to activate them. Granted, there were tons of strong people around, but at least they wouldn't activate because I tossed my bag on my bed.

For testing, we went to some random warehouse. There, I activated one of the Web Bombs, and threw it hard so it would bounce eleven times before triggering on the roof.

As we stared up at the completely webbed-up ceiling, Peter smiled.

"So, I guess it ended up pretty strong, huh?"

"Yup," I said. "I should probably be careful with these."

We stood there in silence, still staring upwards.

"Wanna see how much you can cover in webs in a minute?"

"Stand outside, this is gonna be epic."

* * *

"I've been thinking of learning magic tricks," I mentioned as I caught a ball and held it with one finger. "I'm gonna try to integrate Confusion-Fu into my fighting style."

"You're gonna integrate what?" Murdock asked, sounding amused.

"Confusion-Fu! When you act too unpredictable for your enemies, so you always win." Once every finger held a tennis ball, I threw all but one of them in different directions.

They started to bounce towards Murdock, but the blind me neutralized all of them by shooting a single ball that hit every single one.

Unfortunately for him, while he was distracted lining up his shot, I threw the last ball straight, nailing him right on his forehead.

He looked surprised, actually, before he started laughing. "I see what you mean. I think I can get you some books on magic tricks, maybe ask some acquaintances for tips to give you."

"Thanks, Murdock."

"You can call me Matt, kid."

* * *

My training was more than just tossing shit around. Matt also taught me some of his fighting styles. Aikido, Karate, Kung-Fu, Drunk Irish Boxing (which is like boxing, but with the addition of using headbutts and beer bottles), Krav Maga, and some loose tips about civilized violence in general. Just stuff he picked up on years of fighting against and with Capes over the years.

"I can't do much about integrating your Wall-Crawling into your fighting style," Matt explained one day. "That's something you'll have to figure out yourself."

He also admitted that he didn't know much about Ballet or other dancing styles that might help me, but he said he would ask around.

I'd made some small progress on the magic-tricks front, but I was getting really good at being sneaky with the Web-Bombs, which I hadn't had a chance to use in a real fight yet.

One day, Matt asked me to give him a copy of my Super Suit and some notes on it. The next training day, he was waiting for me with a big box next to him.

"Is that what I think it is?" I asked.

"I don't know; why don't you open it and see?" he asked.

Inside, there were several copies of an improved version of my suit. They had strategically armoured as to not impede movement, small utility belts, and two blue escrima sticks included with every copy.

As I inspected the sticks, Matt coughed into his fist and smiled awkwardly, "I know you never fought with escrima sticks before, but I figured I might teach you. I spent so much time teaching you, I wanted to pass down my weapons too. It's okay if you don't-"

That was as far as he got before I hugged him.

"Thank you!" I said, lifting him up and spinning him around. "Thank you thank you thank you! This is awesome!"

"I'm glad you're happy, kid," Matt said. "Now put me down already."

* * *

I was standing on a rooftop, dramatically looking over the city in my new suit while I twirled one of the sticks on my hand.

"The people of this town have lived in fear for long enough," I said, lowering my voice into a growl. "The Avengers are too busy smacking aliens out of the sky to help out the little guy, and nine out of ten cops are corrupt.

"New York needs a hero.

"New York needs a Dark Knight, someone that will fight the good fight and never give up or give in.

"New York needs _me_.

"I am the Dark.

"I am Vengeance!

" **I! AM!-** "

And then my monologue was interrupted by someone screaming for help.

"Oh shit!"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, it's finally through: the first chapter of the 'Training' arc.**

 **I think this might be the longest chapter I've written in a while.**

 ***checks***

 **Holy shit.**

 **Uh.**

 **Surprise?**

 **I have no self-control.**

 **Also, I forgot to mention, but all the 'Webs' chapters are 100% canon.**


	12. Which Woman? Witch Woman

**Chapter #10: Which Woman? Witch Woman**

* * *

" _There's a predator in the area. Some kind of magical menace._

" _It attacked a coven up in Chattanooga, and after some light poking, I found out there's been a series of_ incidents _coming down the Interstate. I used some scrying spells and…"_

" _And?"_

" _Whatever it is, it's big, angry, and_ very _demonic. There's no rhyme or reason to the attacks as far as we can tell, but it was headed here."_

" _Yes, I felt it, but only recently._

" _Wait, it_ was _headed here?"_

" _That thing is already in New York. But it hasn't attacked anyone. Someone intercepted it first, and they're sitting together in some diner as we speak."_

" _Was it looking for an associate?"_

" _I don't know. All I know about this mystery someone is that they're tied to the Great Web of Fate."_

* * *

I stared at the blond Russian girl as she wolfed down her third burger. Okay, I didn't know a lot about her, but I could recognize Colossus' sister.

Let's see, what _did_ I know? Uh, blonde, Russian, constantly got screwed over by fate, raised in one of the multiple hells in the Marvel multiverse?

I could work with that.

"So, Miss Demonic-Russian-Schoolgirl," I started, "Care to tell me what brings you to these parts of the land?"

"Escaped from Limbo," she said, speaking with her mouth full. "Didn't want to stay with my brother, so I started wandering."

"And you hitchhiked with the wrong sort, and that's why I found you breaking some redneck's legs?"

"Pretty much," she nodded.

"Well, that blows," I stole one of her fries. "Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"Not really."

"I'd offer my place, but seeing how you just had to deal with Mr Redneck, I figure you wouldn't take the offer?"

"Probably not. What's your house like?"

"Empty, mostly."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I usually stay with my best friend's parents, but they don't have a guest room, so I crash at the couch. My parents never show up."

"Does your house have a guest room?"

Before I can answer, a portal opens next to our table. We turn to look and see it leads to the New York sanctorum, and that Stephen-freaking-Strange is coming out of it.

My blonde companion stands up with fists at the ready, but I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Are you who I think you are?"

"That depends, who-?"

"Oh, _please_ spare us the 'cryptic magic man talk'. I have no patience for that." I interrupt.

"Yeah, what he said," the girl (I really needed to find out her name) said.

Strange (probably) grumbled, "Kids these days, they've got no appreciation for the finer points of being a sorcerer."

I smirked, remembered that my mask was pulled up, and readjusted it, but I could see the blonde smirking at me out of the corner of my eye.

"I am the definite magical authority of this plane, Stephen Strange."

"Magical authority? What, you're some kind of wizard cop?"

" _Damn those wizard cops!_ " I growled. Blondie and Strange looked at me. "Uh, from A Very Potter Sequel? The sequel to A Very Potter Musical?"

"Never watched it," Strange said.

"Who's Potter?" Blondie asked.

"Oh, you poor thing," I put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll give you all the books and movies you need to appreciate the wonders of those musicals."

"… Thanks," She said, with very little enthusiasm. Then she turned back to look at Strange. "Also, Stephen Strange? Is that your real name?"

"I know, right?" I chuckled.

" _Yes_ , Stephen Strange _is_ my real name. I've had it my whole life, even before I became Earth's Sorcerer Supreme."

"… _You_ are Earth's Sorcerer Supreme?" Blondie asked, tensing up. I could hear her hands tighten into fists behind her back.

"What a rude word to emphasize," Strange said, oblivious.

I gave him a small glare, and tapped her shoulder. "Don't worry. I have on good authority that Strange is on the up-and-up, even if he's kind of a prick."

"Hey!"

Blondie looked at me, looked into my mask's eyes very intensely, and then nodded. "My name is Illyana Rasputin. I was raised in Limbo."

Strange's face paled, "How?"

"Um, maybe we should pick some other place to talk about this?" I gestured around at all the other patrons of the dinner, who'd been staring for a while. "We kinda attract a lot of attention like this."

"Oh," Strange looked around, and I think he was a bit embarrassed, "Right."

"Could you maybe do some memory editing so they don't remember Illyana's face?" said blonde raised an eyebrow at that. "You know, on account that she's not gonna get much of a private life if people remember her as 'that girl that was at that diner with Spider-Man and Doctor Strange'?"

"Good idea," Strange made some gestures and lights flashed around people's heads while a portal opened behind me. "Follow me; there is much we need to discuss."

* * *

A few minutes later, we were sitting around a table. Strange's buddy, Wong, had made us some sandwiches (sidenote: they were _amazing_ ), and Illyana was telling us her story.

I… It's not pretty.

I'll give you the short version: when she was little, a man named Belasco kidnapped her. He took her to his home, a fiery demon plane called Limbo. Limbo is ruled by its own Sorcerer Supreme, who serves as a vessel for the Eldritch Abominations that pass as that place's gods.

Belasco claimed that it was for a sorcery apprenticeship, and that he wanted to teach Illyana great things. He told her he loved her, that all the pain and suffering he put her through would make sense when she got older.

Instead, when she got older, Illyana's mutant abilities showed up. She could make circular portals to anywhere in world, and even through planes of existence.

She could finally escape. So she did.

… When you hear about people that were abused as children, and people that saw it happening to others, you hear them speak of it, and you hear them use all sorts of tones; haunted, indignant, despondent, and so on.

Illyana sounded almost indifferent. Like it was just something that happened.

' _Yeah, sometimes people get kidnapped by interdimentional monsters. What're you gonna do?_ '

I grit my teeth to keep myself from asking her to open a portal so I could go to Limbo and tear Belasco's spine out through his ass and flail him with it.

Strange bit the bullet and said something stupid before I could. "Illyana, I'm going to offer you a sorcery apprenticeship."

Wong face-palmed, I reached over and slapped the back of his head, and Illyana started running.

Strange ran after her, I stayed put. I could hear them arguing in the distance, but I decided to just finish the sandwich.

"Hey Wong?"

"Yes?"

"These are the best fucking sandwiches I have ever had."

"Thank you, young man."

After a while, the two returned. Illyana still looked uncomfortable. Before anyone could say anything, I spoke.

"Strange, you're an insensitive fucking idiot," the Sorcerer Supreme glared at me as I stood up. "With that said, you're Illyana's best bet if she wants to stay hidden from Belasco."

I approached the blonde and, on a gamble, took off my mask so I could look her in the eye. "With that _also_ said, if you need a place to crash away from this bearded dumbass, come find me. I'll visit whenever I can, if you don't mind?"

Strange was grumbling about the lack of respect in the background, but we all ignored him. Illyana was hugging herself, but she gave me an awkward smile. "I'd like that, Spider."

"My name's Jake, actually, but yeah. I'll visit soon."

* * *

And I kept my word. Whenever I wasn't busy with school bullshit, training with Matt, or being Spider-Man, which wasn't often, I'd swing over the Sanctorum and hang out with Illyana.

Every time I visited, she looked a little better, and she had a new trick to show me.

She showed me meditation, nonlethal hand-to-hand combat, creation magic (she wasn't that good at it, more on that later), astral projection, basic defensive enchantments, incantations, protective amulets, intermediate defensive enchantments, beginner offensive spells, the list went on.

Mastery of one led to mastery of another. She told me that, at the start of their sessions, Strange had called her 'one of the strongest sorcerers he had ever met'.

Considering the kind of life a man like Strange led, that was saying something.

Months passed, and Illyana was acting more and more like an actual teenager than the hollow girl she once was.

As time went on, I too learned more from my own mentor. By the time I introduced Illyana to my other friends, I was constantly aware of everything around me. I hadn't been surprised by a sneak attack in weeks.

* * *

"Okay, seriously," Gwen and Peter were following me to the dinner Illyana said she'd meet us at. "Illyana's been through a lot, so I want you two assholes to be extra-nice to her."

" _We're_ the assholes?" Gwen asked.

"If we measured asshole-ness with me as a standard, everyone would be a saint." They both nodded and conceded the point.

We entered the place, and I spotted her immediately. She smiled at me, but the expressions soured a little when she saw Peter and Gwen.

I could tell this might be a challenge, so I went ahead first.

"Hey blondie, these are the guys I told you about."

She took a deep breath and stretched a hand forward. "Hello. My name is Illyana Rasputin."

My two friends introduced themselves, and we sat down (Peter and Gwen on one side and Illyana and I on the other) to order.

The conversation was… _lacking_ , to put it kindly.

No one said anything for like ten minutes; Illyana wasn't making eye contact with anyone. And when they did talk…

"So…" Peter said. "You're… a person."

"…Yes."

"Cool. I like people."

"… Hm."

I wasn't sure why they were all acting so awkward. Unless…

"Oh, in case you idiots didn't figure it out, everyone sitting on this table knows about what I do on tights."

"OH MY GOD!" That was Peter.

"WHY WOULDN'T YOU MENTION THAT?!" That was Illyana.

"JAKE, YOU ASSHOLE!" And that was Gwen. Naturally.

"Stop shouting, we're gonna get kicked out." I deadpanned.

After some more shouting at me, and getting kicked under the table by Gwen, the tension loosened.

After dinner and hanging out at a cinema, I was walking Illyana home.

"Jake?"

"What's up?"

"I had fun. Thank you."

"Any time, Blondie," I chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

* * *

"So Strange's mentoring someone too?" Murdock asked, as I punched away at a bag.

"Yup," I said, walking around the bag and hitting it with a few jabs. "She's a Russian Mutant Schoolgirl from Hell."

I hit the bag with a high kick.

"Or, well, from Limbo, technically."

"Jeez, I remember when it was just Mutants and super soldiers," Murdock muttered. "Those were the days."

"What about Inhumans?"

"Oh, you mean dollar-store mutants?"

"I'm pretty sure that was racist, Matt."

"I don't _see_ race, Jake."

"Hilarious," I groaned.

"Okay, that's enough punishment on that poor punching bag," I gave it a final one-two, which tore the bag in half, and stepped back. "How're your magic tricks coming?"

"Pretty good, I think," I pulled a 50 cent coin from my pocket and rolled it between my fingers. "I don't think I can fool Hawkeye, or someone with our senses, but I've gotten pretty good at passing Web Bombs and coins between my hands sneakily."

I showed him by tossing the coin around in various ways.

"Not bad. Still a bit clumsy, but you're getting there." He pulled out that damned tennis ball canon. "Let's see how good you are at doing those tricks under pressure."

"Bring it on, bitch!"

Boy oh boy did I regret that invitation.

* * *

"So, Flash," I started. "You a big Spider-Man fan?"

"Gee, Fletcher," Flash asked, eyebrow raised and hand pointing at his t-shirt, which proudly displayed my emblem. "What gave you that crazy idea?"

"Hey, watch it, Skippy. I'm the sarcasm guy here."

Peter made a face.

"Don't give me that look, Parker. You test my benevolence plenty with your usual attitude."

He rolled his eyes, Gwen giggled, and Flash gave a small, hesitant smile.

"Anyways, I don't see what's so great about the guy," I said.

"He helps the little people," Flash shrugged. "I can totally respect that. Also, his powers are just really freaking cool."

"Huh-" I was going to say something else, probably something stupid, when I sensed that someone was about to shove my face into my spaghetti. I could have easily dodged it, but the person was approaching fast and silently, so I just sighed with resignation and let it happen.

As I pulled my face out of the bland, lukewarm noodles, obnoxious laughter crowed behind me.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it was Brooks?"

Flash nodded.

"Fucker," I growled, wiping the crappy salsa with a napkin. I turned around and glared at the asshole. "Hey, cock-for-brains, are you looking for an excuse to get your ass kicked?"

In case you forgot, Alec Brooks is the least exiting nemesis in my life. He'd been pretty out of my life as of late, so I was hoping he'd fallen in some shallow hole and died, but no such luck.

"I'd like to see you try, loser," he laughed at me.

I pulled off my glasses, rolled up my sleeves, and turned around.

* * *

"This kind of behaviour is not tolerated in Midtown High!"

"Since when?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Since always!"

I was in trouble, surprisingly. Usually, when I got in a fight in school, the aid of witnesses at the scene was enough for me to get off with a small slap on the wrist.

As the principal ranted, I leaned back to think on it.

"Oh!" I said. "His parents have influence on the board of educators, right?"

The principal stared at me.

I stared back.

"... _Yes_."

"HA! I knew it."

"Look, just…" he scribbled something fast. "You have detention for the next five Saturdays. If anyone asks, it's for the next twenty. Understood?"

"Understood!" I gave the principal a salute.

"Just get out of my office."

I left. Sitting outside, with two adults wearing suits flanking him, was Brooks. His nose was swollen and red like an extremely gross tomato, his eye was bruised shut, and he was still covered in garbage from the dumpster I'd tossed him in.

He glared at me. I blew him a kiss.

* * *

I was hanging out on a roof with Illyana. Strange didn't like letting the Russian hellion out of his sight, but every once in a while he let her come out to hang out with me, as long as she wore a pendant with enchantments to hide her from Belasco.

"I'm just… so frustrated, you know?" she asked. She'd been ranting a while about her failures regarding creation magic, and I'd been listening as I made a hammock out of webs.

I nodded, finishing the web hammock and inviting her to seat next to me. She took the offer, but sat far away that she wasn't within arm's reach of me.

She… she had issues, after Limbo. I understood, and tried to help. I could never claim to be an expert in psychology, so I don't know how much I actually contributed, but I think it worked. At least a little.

But I had an idea for that night. For once, Strange had _asked_ me to hang out with Illyana, to try and get her mind off of her troubles. I'd thought about it, and I'd come up with a solution.

"Hey, do you wanna come with me on patrol?"

"Huh?" she stared at me. "You mean…?"

"That's right. This is your one-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a ride in the Spidey Express." I reached under the hammock and showed her one of my spare masks, except the lenses had been swapped for regular ones. "You'll have to mask up, though."

She hesitated. "… Are you sure about this?"

"Fo' shizzle," I said, hopping out of the hammock and walking over to the edge of the roof. "Even if it were possible for me to drop you, which it isn't, you have magic and portals to keep you safe."

I shot a web to another building and extended a hand towards my friend. Illyana hadn't moved from the hammock.

"Come on," I said, "Trust me."

Hesitant, obviously afraid, she walked over, before slowly taking my hand.

"Atta girl!" I said. "But you're gonna have to hop on my back, I can't carry you just by your hand."

"Oh, right." After some awkward re-positioning, she was riding piggyback, and I was about to jump. "Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't drop me."

I could have explained that my Spidey Cling ability wouldn't let her fall. Luckily, I knew better.

"Of course."

I jumped, holding onto the webs.

As we dropped, Illyana was screaming in my ear. At first it was panic, but as we swung as a pendulum, it turned into elation and laughter. In no time, my co-pilot was whooping and throwing one of her arms in the air.

* * *

"So, you took her for a ride in the Spidey Express?" Matt said, smiling and quirking an eyebrow.

"First off, shut the fuck up," I said, flipping him off. "Second, it wasn't like that. I don't see Illyana that way."

"Why not?" He was checking his pockets for the key to the gym as we walked. I pulled it out of my own pocket and handed it over; it was something he decided to add to my training. "According to you, she's pretty cute."

"I have three rules when it comes to dating, Matt," I raised a hand and a finger. "Rule number one: only date people in the Cape scene. She's involved, but she's not _in_ it."

"That's actually not a bad rule," Murdock muttered, clearly thinking about all the grief that his double life brought him.

"Rule number two," I raised another finger. "If someone needs a therapist, not a relationship, don't give them a relationship."

That bit of wisdom was based on my first life.

"Rule number three," I raised a third finger. "Don't date people that have just escaped traumatic, horrifying situations. If you're _that_ set on a relationship with that person, you can wait for them to be in a better headspace."

Matt was staring at me, even though he technically couldn't. "I'm surprised, that's very mature of you, Jake."

"… Thanks." I always feel uncomfortable when I'm complimented like that. "Anyways, what's in the schedule for today?"

"I decided to bring in someone that could teach you a few things you've asked about."

We reached the gym. Inside, there was a beautiful red-headed woman wearing a tight bodysuit.

I would have been a lot more excited had I not recognized her. Because I did, I was excited for a different reason.

"That's Black Widow." I said dumbly. "That's Awesome-Super-Spy-That-Can-Kill-A-Man-With-Her-Pinkie Black Widow. You're making Black Widow train me."

"Yup," Matt said.

"Holy shit," I whispered, before walking forward. "Um, Miss Romanoff, it's an honour-"

Before I could finish talking, she was pulling out a gun (a Glock, I think) from her belt and aiming it at my head. I smacked it aside, letting the shot hit a wall, and ducked under a roundhouse kick that was aimed to my face.

In no time, I was fighting Black Widow in Daredevil's gym.

… I love my life some days.

* * *

"Got to admit," Natasha freaking Romanoff said, sweating and panting on the other side of the gym. I was a little better off, on account of my superhuman physique, but she'd still run me ragged. "Matt was right. You've got potential, kid."

"Thank you, ma'am," I groaned. "So, are you going to teach me?"

"… Sure," she shrugged. "What do you want to learn?"

I leaned back. I'd been giving the matter some thought as I fought her.

"Well, you incorporate dancing into your fighting, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I want to do the same. I was hoping you'd show me some ballet, some breakdancing, maybe some capoeira?"

"I can do that. Anything else?"

"Uh, I sometimes have to gather intelligence on gangs, so I guess I'd like some spy tricks, if you don't mind. And, uh…" I felt my ears get hot, and the rest of my request came out as a stuttered whisper. "M-maybe a bit of, uh, seduction? In case I find a flirty villain?"

Widow stared.

Matt stared.

I stared at the ground and prayed for someone to kill me.

Eventually the dam broke and Matt started laughing. Widow smiled and told me that sure, she'd see what she could do.

* * *

After some weeks of training with Black Widow, or Natasha, as she told me to call her-

(Black Widow said I could call her Natasha squeeeeee)

I discovered that I had no idea what the fuck I was talking about when I said I was flexible as Spider-Man. In just some weeks, Natasha had made it so I was at the most balanced and flexible I'd ever been.

I was more graceful and trickier to fight. As proved by my opponent there, lying on the floor.

"So, I did some digging after our last fight," I said, as Electro was lying on the ground. As it turned out, I could overload his powers by dunking him in water and punching him there. We weren't near any rivers or anything, so I had had to rip off a fire hydrant and burn my hands grabbing him and shoving his face into the water that came out. "Your name is Max, right? Or it was?"

"Max was the old me," Electro grumbled, still dizzy from his beating. "Electro is what's here and now."

"Right," I was looking my hands over, they were red and pretty badly burnt, but they shouldn't scar. Or at least they shouldn't scar too badly. "How did you get your powers?"

"Failed experiment," he grumbled.

"You too? Damn, we should start a union, or maybe a support group."

"There's already a support group, but it's for villains," Electro said, rolling over to be face up. "Some of us can't help themselves, you know?"

"I've been looking into that, actually," I stumbled into my feet and shot two webs to check that my shooters were functioning. "Do you think maybe it's some kind of condition that makes people more likely to use their abilities to rob banks and shit?"

"I heard there's some egghead in Harvard studying that, actually."

"Huh," there goes my idea for a PhD in psychology, I guess. "Hey, you weren't hurt too badly from that time with Bullseye, were you?"

"I don't hurt easy, relax," he waved me off. We heard sirens approaching. "Want me to shout about how I'll get you next time?"

"If you don't mind, that'd be awesome."

* * *

Illyana went missing for a little while. When she showed up again, she had a cloak that was very similar to Strange's, and a staff made of some eldritch iron that I couldn't hope to recognize.

"… I leave you out of my sight for two minutes, and you become Strange-ette?"

"I met Belasco," she said, and suddenly all my jokes banished.

She explained what happened: Strange took her to some tropical island to train her creation magic, and Belasco happened to show up. He almost killed Strange, but Illyana stabbed him with the staff she finally managed to make right before Belasco appeared (turns out it was actually a weapon made for fucking up magi, who knew?). Strange did some action-therapy, which is basically therapy but with some explosions, Illyana created a universe in a Blight Plane, and she decided to become the next Sorcerer Supreme after Strange retired.

"… all that time, Belasco tried to bury me, not knowing he was just planting a seed," she whispered. She turned to look at me, smiling with fire in her eyes. "I demand to grow."

I wrapped her in a hug.

We hung out for a while. Illyana explained that she was going to step up her training, so we wouldn't be able to hang out as much for some time.

She insisted that if I ever needed help with something mystical, I could run right over.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Merry Christmas?**

 **Yeah, okay, I'm an ass.**

 **Anyway, there's a few more chapters to this arc, then it's the Winter Arc, and then one of my favourite arcs planned.**

 **Before anyone gets any crazy ideas, no. Illyana will not be romance by Spidey. The first romantic relationship will take place in the Winter Arc, and it won't be her. Illyana's gonna be just a friend.**

 **Next chapter brings the Fantastic Four, and with them, Johnny Storm, the ultimate bro.**


	13. Storming the Building

**Chapter #11: Storming the Building.**

* * *

"Okay, what the fuck?" Gwen complained. "First you tell me you're getting seduction classes from Black-fucking-Widow, and now this?"

"You like it?"

"I love it, but I hate you."

I laughed, resting my hands in the pockets of my new leather jacket. Widow had given me a list of clothes I needed to try out as 'homework', and the jacket had gotten her approval.

"I think it looks good on you, man," Peter said, to which I replied with a fist bump.

Thank you, Peter. Your loyalty is a most valued trait.

We entered Midtown, and met up with Flash, who raised an eyebrow but made no comment on my jacket.

Until I started annoying him about my jacket and he said I looked like the Fonz.

"You're a bigger dork than I thought for knowing who the Fonz is," I laughed, and he rolled his eyes.

* * *

I rolled one of my batons on my hand distractedly as I sat atop a streetlight. I liked peaceful moments like this, where nothing was happening and nothing needed my attention.

"'EY, YO SPIDER-MAN!"

Never mind.

I sighed and looked over my shoulder. There were four kids standing around on a basketball court. One of them, a small black girl with messy dreadlocks, had her hands cupped around her mouth. The one next to her, a brown-haired girl that was slightly taller, looked horrified. She was whispering about how she couldn't holler at random super heroes.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Come play with us!"

"What are you doing?!" the brunette hissed. "He's a hero! He's probably too busy saving the universe or something, you can't-"

"Actually, saving the universe is more of an Avengers thing," I corrected. They both shrieked and turned around to find me standing there. I love that trick. "I'm more of a friendly neighborhood superhero. Except that my neighborhood is the whole city."

They were all gaping at me, including the two that hadn't gotten involved.

"So," I pretended to cough into my fist. "How's this gonna go? All of you against me? I join one team?"

"Join ours!" The one that called me and the brunette said.

"Okay," I shrugged.

"No," Another girl, this one blonde and shorter than all the others, said. "Guys, come on, he's a superhero, he should be on his own team."

"You're just saying that 'cause you know we would dunk your face off," I joked. They all looked at me. "Are we not doing trash talk?"

The blonde laughed and tossed me the ball. "Alright, Spidey, let's see what you got."

The next hour was spent with me having more fun than I expected. Eventually, I heard police sirens, so I had to leave, but I promised to try to show up some other time.

* * *

I was doing push-ups with Black Widow sitting on my back. It would have been better if not for the gun pointed at my neck in case I ever stopped.

"What page are you at?" I asked.

I heard the sound of a page being turned. "Page 187."

"Ok," When I started doing push-ups, she had started at the first page. I was starting to worry that she was going to read the entire book before I could stop.

Spoiler alert: that's exactly what happened.

* * *

The guy sitting in front of me had tried to rob a man in an alley. Obviously, I'd stopped him. But then the would-be victim started kicking him while he was down. I told him to cut it out, and he asked me what I cared about some random…

Well, let's just say he used a very mean word, and that I replied with my lack of fear of knocking two bitches on their asses.

I sat down next to the guy. I felt bad for him, honestly, and I was feeling generous.

"Before I call the cops, because I doubt that other guy will," I started, "I'd like to know why you're doing this. You got a family or something?"

"… Yeah," he admitted. "Little nephew, barely seven years old."

"You're supporting him?"

"Nah, he's got his parents for that," the man snorted and spit to the side. "I offer to help out from time to time, but my brother doesn't want any dirty money near his kid. Can't say I blame him."

"Hm," I pulled out my baton as I started twirling it. I thought I had a good idea of who this guy was. "Your nephew, he knows that money is dirty?"

"Hell no, man! The guy treats me like I'm one of you," he said, probably meaning Capes. "My brother and his wife don't like me much, but they're not gonna tell him that his uncle goes around robbing motherfuckers."

"Hm," I pulled a cigarette from his pocket and offered it to him. Seeing how his arms were webbed to his sides, he took it without complaint and kept it close while I lit it. "So you just do it to keep yourself fed?"

"Pretty much," he admitted. I respected how he didn't dance around it.

"What's your name?"

"Aaron."

"Tell me, Aaron," I turned to look at him. "Are you a well-connected man?"

"… I make do," he nodded.

"Well, it just so happens that I keep a sort of… network of informants, if you will," I grabbed the webs on him and started tearing them apart. "I'm looking to expand, and I could use someone that other robbers wouldn't keep their guard up against."

"Are you for real?"

"I bet it would be real nice to have a reason your family would accept for robbing guys, hm?" I pulled the last web off and helped him up. "Maybe show your nephew a selfie of yourself with Spidey, your work friend?"

Aaron blinked at me slowly, before he started laughing. At one point, he was laughing so hard he bent over and had to hold on to me to keep from falling.

When he stopped, he accepted eagerly and took a picture to show his nephew Miles.

Yeah, I about fucking figured.

* * *

I was chilling on a rooftop when suddenly everything got hotter, in more than one way.

"Hey! I heard about you! You're Spider-Man, right?"

I looked up from my phone, and flying there in all his burning glory was Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.

"That's me, yeah," I rolled back to stand on my hands, and then did a double flip onto a standing position.

Completely unnecessary? Sure.

Cool? Probably not.

"Nice to meet another teen Cape," he laughed, turning off his powers and dropping to stand in front of me. He stretched a hand forward. "I'm Johnny, Johnny Storm."

"Nice to meet you, Johnny-Johnny Storm," I shook his hand. "What brings you to this rooftop?"

"Eh, just escaping my house for a while," he pointed back with his thumb and I followed to the Baxter Building. "Reed's making some kind of portal thing and it's really noisy."

"Huh," Peter would probably be outraged that someone would decide not to look at a portal because it's too noisy. "Well, feel free to chill on this rooftop with me if you like, I was taking advantage of things being quiet to catch up on… social networks."

I was definitely not going to talk about reading fanfiction from TotallyAwesome with Johnny-friggin'-Storm, especially since I was just reading one about him and The Thing in a coffee shop AU. It was pretty cute, honestly, they were both pretty in-character. The grammar had a few problems but- oh shit he's talking.

"Thanks, man," he said, pulling out his own phone from his criminally tight supersuit and starting to type something. I turned back to my own phone, this time leaning against a wall. It was quiet, for a while, and kinda awkward.

I caught a purple glow from the corner of my eye, and I looked up at the Baxter Building.

"Hey, Storm?"

"You can call me Johnny, dude."

"Right," I nodded, "Hey, Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Was Richards' portal purple?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Because the three top floors of the Baxter Building are glowing purple."

He turned around and saw that, indeed, they were glowing.

"What the hell?" he flamed on and started flying, but I stuck a web to him and pulled him back. "Let me go!"

"Wait!" I shouted, not tearing my eyes from the increasingly bright windows. "I think that if you go right now, you'll get caught."

"Caught? What do you mean ca-?"

The light suddenly stopped. Before Johnny could relax, our phones started screeching. He turned off his flames and looked at his phone, which was displaying some kind of armored green blob.

"Inferior creatures of Earth!" it screeched, "I am the great and powerful Ooze Master!"

The image panned to show three of the Fantastic Four, all of them with little balls of goo attached to their temples. "As you can see, we have imprisoned your strongest and smartest, and will now proceed to conquer the Earth!"

As the little ball of goo continued to monologue, I looked down over the edge of the roof. The same broadcast was being played on the phones of everyone below, and I could hear it from the Big Apple's general direction.

I nudged Johnny, "Okay, now we can go."

"Huh?"

"No one expects an attack while they monologue," I said, before jumping off and shooting a web. I heard him shout his catch-phrase, and soon I was joined by the Human Torch.

I strained my senses, and saw that there was a goo creature on the second floor from the top.

"Follow my lead!" I shouted, before using two webs to slingshot me through the window. I landed on the creature with a kick, which splattered it everywhere. Johnny followed through the hole.

Like you'd expect, the kick didn't do much, and it started quickly reforming. "Foolish inferior! The proud goo-"

"Just reformed into a trap," I finished, pointing a finger gun at it as the web bomb I'd put where it was reforming triggered.

The creature went from being blue to a sickly grey as it bloated and hardened.

I stuck it to the roof and turned to look at Johnny, who seemed impressed, which was nice.

"Okay, listen," I popped a squat and gestured for him to get closer. He copied me, still on fire, and I whispered in case they were listening. "Here's what I got so far: I can't hit them, but webs will work, so there's only so many I can take out. Luckily, they're probably not fireproof."

He gave a fierce smile at that, and I returned it under my mask.

"I'm glad you get it. Now, I don't feel or hear any of them approaching, so that either means they're not hive-minding this…" I raised my voice a little, "Or they're spying on us, which is unlikely because they are the biggest morons on the galaxy!"

I heard goo rushing over, plus some footsteps.

"Okay, definitely a hive-mind, I can hear them coming," we stood up and got ready, me with my webshooters and him with his fire. "I'm going to need you to keep up the offense while I search, these conqueror types always have a super-laser or something loading up, and I'd bet good money on it being on the top floor."

"How do you know all this?!" the defeated goo on the roof demanded.

I turned around and flipped it off.

"Because I'm Spider-Man, bitch!"

* * *

About an hour later, there were burns all over the second floor, more than a few goo bitches had been fried, and we were staring down Ooze Master and the three brainwashed members of the Fantastic Four. Behind them, there was a purple portal that opened to a barren world. The portal was on top of an iron platform that had some kind of yellow sci-fi battery stuck to it.

During the fighting, we'd discovered that the goo invaders were building a weapon on the roof. It had finished about a minute before the confrontation, and had thirty minutes until it was done warming up.

Ooze Master had been making another fucking monologue for the last two minutes, and I was just about done with his shit. Johnny was frozen in place, hesitant to fight his family.

I decided that enough was enough, and I raised my hand.

"Excuse me, Goo King?"

"That's Ooze Master, inferior!" it shouted, before quietly adding, "Although your idea is good too, I might take it as a title."

"Whatever, I have a question about that portal." He looked at it. "If I close it, would it be one of those everything-goes-back-to-it's-dimension situations?"

Ooze Master stared at me. Johnny stared at me. The Brainwashed Three stared at me.

"… No," Ooze Master said.

"I'll take my chances," I replied, shooting a web at the battery thing-y and pulling.

In a second, the portal turned into a knock-off black hole that only sucked in all the goo, including the bits stuck to Sue, Reed and Ben.

Shortly after, they were back to normal and I was eating a late brunch with them.

"So this kinda thing is just another Wednesday for you guys, huh?" I asked through a mouth full of toast. "That's gotta get annoying."

Ben nodded, and Sue shrugged.

"You get used to it," she said.

"I'm more interested in you, young man," Reed Richards said, giving me a smile. "How did you figure out the portal so fast?"

I could see, out of the corner of my eye, Johnny rolling his eyes as a small sigh escaped him.

I felt for the guy. Growing up with the Parkers was great, but Peter had a tendency of leaving me feeling pretty dumb. Being normal around geniuses would leave most people with issues. Being a reincarnated teenager that should be smarter than a four-year-old was just humiliating. It was part of the reason I decided that the age that mattered was the one of my body.

He probably expected me to be yet another super-smart Cape that could think circles around Hawking.

Boy did he get the pleasant surprise of my stupidity.

"I just figured I might as well try," I shrugged.

Richards' face fell (a bit too literally, as it looked like it actually elongated), Sue blinked with surprise, and Ben coughed.

Johnny looked happy, though.

"Seriously?" asked Ben.

"Well, from what I've heard, that's how these things go," I gestured vaguely. "You fight the brainwashed members while some sort of secret weapon loads up, then the weakened but free Smart Guy tells you that the portal just needs to be shut off, and then you try to shut off the portal in time. It seemed easier to skip to the last step."

Johnny started laughing while Ben and Richards gaped at me.

"What if that hadn't worked?" Sue asked. "We would have been stuck with the Goo Invaders."

"No, _they_ would have been stuck with _us_." I corrected.

This got a grin from Ben.

"In any case," said Richards, failing to hide his disappointment. "We are in your debt."

"Great, because I have two favors to ask and I'd rather just owe one."

"Huh?"

"The first one and this is the one I'm cashing in my favor on, is that you give a friend of mine a chance for an internship here," I finished what was left of my toast and washed it down with orange juice. "I'm not asking for you to hand it on a silver platter, just look at some of his work."

"That sounds more than fair," Sue nodded. "And the other favor?"

"I need a full medical exam," I explained. "I got my powers from a radioactive spider, and I don't want to find out I have radioactive blood or something the wrong way."

"A radioactive spider?" Johnny asked.

"I don't know, man, the universe is weird." I said, exasperated.

"True that," Ben admitted.

"You'd rather use your favor on an internship for your friend than your medical exam?" Sue asked.

"Meh," I shrugged. "I've been fine for the last couple months; I can manage to go without a doctor if you say no."

"Of course we won't," Sue sighed. She got up and gestured for me to follow, "Come on, I'll take you to my lab."

"O-oh, you mean- I mean, of course, I heard that you're a geneticist but I didn't think- Not that you're not-! I mean!"

She laughed a little and gestured for me again.

"Right," face burning under the mask (which I hurriedly pulled down over my mouth) I followed.

"Hey, Spidey!" Johnny called.

I looked back and saw him make a 'watching you' gesture before laughing.

I shot a web over his face. Not enough that he couldn't breathe, but enough to annoy him.

Muffled swearing and the laughter of a man made of rock followed me out the door.

* * *

"Interesting," Sue whispered, looking down a microscope at a sample of my blood.

' _Hm, yeah,_ ' I thought. ' _That's what I like the Invisible Woman to call me. Interesting. Like a bacteria farm._ '

It could have been worse. I was alone in a room with Sue Storm and my shirt was off. That was pretty good.

"So, what's up, doc?"

"Nothing as bad as radioactive blood, you'll be glad to hear," she said.

"Good, so now my only worry is radioactive sperm and saliva," I joked. She turned to look at me like I was crazy. "Bad joke, sorry."

"It's fine," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just surprised; there aren't many Capes your age. I didn't think I'd meet any besides Johnny."

Truth be told, the 'boom' in Cape activity didn't start until the Avengers originally formed, which was about two decades before I was born. I was, as I was starting to figure out, part of the second generation of Capes in this universe.

Most active and retired Capes were around or over thirty. The implications were… alarming.

The way it was looking, I could end up being a trend-setter.

Ha, isn't that a laugh? Here I was, Jake Fletcher: Spider-Man-and-Trailblazer Extraordinaire.

Sue took a swab of saliva and asked me to, um, _fill_ a cup to make sure my jokes didn't have a serious side to them.

Sometime later, the tests came back negative for poison.

"I'm sure this'll be a relief for your girlfriend," Sue said.

I faked a laugh.

"Not too popular, huh?"

"I have a reputation for insanity and fighting bullies."

"Could be worse," Sue shrugged.

"Would you have dated me?" I asked, mostly rhetorically.

"Depends on what you look like without the mask on," she teased.

Suddenly, it was very hard not to notice the lack of a ring on her finger.

' _NO! Bad Spider!_ '

I cleared my throat. "Right, thanks, I appreciate that."

"No problem," She winked before turning back and retrieving the blood sample. "No, what I wanted to talk about is your powers. I think they're not done developing."

Wait, what the fuck?

She sat on a chair and held the sample in a force field, "From what I've seen, the mutation caused by the spider is tied to your growth hormones."

"So, I don't get full powers until I finish puberty?"

"Basically," she shrugged. "Extreme amounts of adrenaline might rush it a little, but I don't know for sure. You should be prepared for some extreme growth spurs."

I nodded, tapping my chin thoughtfully.

This was probably tied to The Great Web of Fate in some way. Maybe because I got in Peter's place, I was being put on a trial run of some kind?

"Thanks for this, doc," I said, getting off the examining table and putting on the parts of my suit I'd taken off. "Would you mind destroying those samples? I've got this thing with clones, I don't want loose ends."

Sue raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyways. "No problem, at all. It was the least I could do."

We shook hands and I headed off to say goodbye to the rest of the team. Ben and Reed were relaxing on the couch, Reed writing something on his computer while Ben watched the T.V. and drank beer. The former didn't even notice I said something, but the Thing nodded at me and thanked me again for my help.

I found Johnny still on the kitchen, with the smell of burnt chemicals indicating what happened to my prank.

Before I could leave, Johnny told me to stand still as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and raised his camera. "Selfie!"

I had just enough time to make a little peace sign.

"Nice, this is going on Twitter," he said, already typing away. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. "Here."

"What's this?"

"That's Reed's personal email address and my number. The first one is so your friend can send something for the internship. The second is in case you wanna hang out sometime."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean," he seemed oddly nervous. "I don't know any other Cape my age, you know. It'd be cool to hang out with someone that _gets it_."

Johnny Storm was a social butterfly. He thrived at parties, could get a date by brushing his hair with his hand, and might have caused a heart attack at one point with a wink of his eye. He was nothing like me.

But, I got what he meant when he said that. Not even Peter really understood some things I talked about. He'd try to, but he didn't _get it_.

"Sounds good," I nodded, pocketing the piece of paper.

I thought about it, and decided to throw caution away. I took off my mask, "I'm not comfortable with everyone knowing, but my name's Jake Fletcher, if you were wondering."

His smile was a million watts, and I pondered how I could possibly be _this_ bad at keeping a secret identity.

* * *

"Alright, thanks Blondie," I said. "Yeah, no, I'll be fine. Yeah, thanks. We'll talk later. Bye."

I hung up. Illyana had just confirmed my theory; I was 'incompletely' bound to The Great Web of Fate.

If I had to guess, I just had to prove myself a capable Spider-Man.

How was that going to happen? A fight against the Green Goblin? Keeping the mask after the death of a loved one?

… Whatever it was?

I may not have been ready, but I was _willing_ to face it.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Well golly-gosh! An update! And before April, too!**

 **Miracles do happen!**

 **Anyways, I'm afraid I made some mistakes on these Author's Notes: Doc Ock won't be introduced this arc, and Spidey's first romantic relationship is happening next chapter.**

 **Surprise!**

 **Yeah, anyways: Next chapter's titled 'Halloween', and it'll be multiple parts. Two or three, maybe more, maybe less. Point is that it's gonna be long.**

 **So yeah! Please leave reviews, they keep me going, and I'll see you next time I post a chapter.**

 **PS: May I have a TV Tropes page?**


	14. Halloween (Part One)

**Chapter #12: Halloween (Part One)**

* * *

"So, I saw you fought some new villain on the news," Ben said over breakfast. "What was his name? The guy with the fishbowl on his head?"

"Mysterio, Master of Illusion," I said. "He was planning some kind of 'Ghostbusters Finale' type deal for Halloween, but I found him early after he stole some chemicals for that, so we fought early."

Thank god for informants.

"That's good," May nodded.

I grunted an agreement, lost in thought. Halloween was just around the corner, and I was pretty fucking sure that something stupid and/or Goblin-related was going to happen. The only question was how and why.

And also what. What was also important.

I guess the whole deal was important, although that wasn't quite as dramatic.

I finished my pot of coffee (not hyperbole) and got up.

I typically slept in the guest room of the Parker home. That day was a Saturday, so I decided that, since I was gonna be free all day, I should just spend the whole day being an illegal vigilante, like most kids my age would.

Peter finally shambled down the stairs from his room, with bags under his eyes so dark that it looked like he'd been punched in the face twice.

"Ugh," he groaned.

"How many hours did you spends going over your formula?" I asked.

"Lost count after 5am," he admitted, grabbing the second pot of coffee that May had already made and starting to drink directly from the rim. A bad habit he got from me, I think. "I finally sent it when my brain was too used up to be useful, so now I just have to hope Mr. Richards likes it."

"He will," I said, taking my mug to the sink and giving it a quick rinse. "Anyways, I gotta go. You call me as soon as you get an answer, okay?"

Peter made a vaguely-agreeing pitiful groan, and I headed for the back door.

The Parker home was similar to the Ultimate version of it. Small and in the suburbs, but close enough to the city that I just had to run a little before I could start swinging from buildings. There was plenty of foliage behind the houses, and with my senses and training I could avoid being seen leaving the house.

"Wait, wait!" May called out as I put on my mask and hood. She went into her room and came out with a black sweater. "They said it was going to be cold today, so I knit you this!"

"Um," I took it hesitantly. "I appreciate it, but I don't think I'll be very intimidating in a home-knit sweater."

"Oh, pish-posh," she said, because she knew nobody says that anymore. "I made it to fit your look. Or are you going to tell me you're too old to wear a sweater your mother knit you?"

"Never," I chuckled. I thought of the Parkers as family, but it was always a relief to hear them say they thought the same.

I unfolded the sweater, and my jaw dropped.

"You like it?"

"This is the greatest thing ever," I whispered. I lifted my mask over my nose, kissed May on the cheek, and ran out the back door, putting the sweater on as I ran.

It was completely black, except for the long-legged white spider on the chest.

It was so freaking awesome.

* * *

 _Osborn was sitting in his office, glaring at the simpering fool giving the report._

" _You mean to tell me," he said, slowly, watching the scientist shake in his boots, "That our mutated spider got out of its cage, snuck out, and died biting some_ nobody _?!"_

" _I-I'm sorry, Mister Osborn!"_

" _Sorry doesn't get my specimen back!" Osborn shouted. He took a few deep breaths and continued in a calmer tone. "What happened after the bite?"_

" _The student hit the spider as soon as he was bit. After the room went on lockdown, it was found dead from impact a little ways from where the student was."_

 _Osborn grumbled some more between gritted teeth as he dismissed the man with a gesture._

 _As he made two small mental notes regarding the firing of that simpering fool and the payment for the Fletcher boy's hospital stay, Osborn contemplated the footage of a young 15-year-old getting bitten by a million-dollar spider on his laptop._

* * *

You know, I'd been Spider-Man for a while. Since a little after the start of the school year.

So it was safe to say that I'd gotten used to some things: the feeling of my fist connecting with someone's face, the sensation of my body cutting through the wind as I swung in a perfect angle before letting go, thus becoming, if only for an instant, perfectly weightless and free.

And, most importantly, the feeling of my web pulling taunt as it held my weight.

So, when instead of that, I heard a cracking noise, I was understandably scared.

And when I looked up and saw that my web, suddenly a lot more solid and broken that I liked it, I understandably panicked.

So I don't think anyone can judge me for screaming "SHIT!" as I plummeted to the sidewalk mid-swing.

I bounced a couple times, before skidding a little on my face and flopping face-up.

"Fuckin' ow," I groaned.

"Are you okay?" some pedestrian asked.

"Do I look-!?" I stopped myself. "No, no I'm not. I appreciate your concern, though."

I got up, rubbing a sore spot on my hip, and looked up. My web-line appeared to be frozen solid. It had been really chilly lately, but this was just dumb.

"What happened?" some other pedestrian asked.

"Well," I said, shooting another web-line, but letting it hang. In seconds, the whole this was fragile and solid. "It appears I just discovered what happens to spider webs in winter."

"It's still autumn, though."

I didn't even look at the guy who said that. I just put a finger to my chin and looked up at the building I'd tried to swing off of.

"Fuck it," I declared. "I'm gonna Parkour this shit."

With that said, I walked a little backwards, and raced up the building.

Halfway up, I jumped off, landed on a streetlight, and jumped away to another building. I heard some people cheering from the street, and I continued with a grin. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad.

* * *

" _Spider-Man, huh?" Osborn was grinning at his laptop, watching the footage of a young boy in a clearly home-made costume taunting OsCorp's latest business partner. "Not too subtle, but you've clearly got brains."_

 _So far, one of the wealthiest men in New York had only heard rumors about Spider-Man, but this shed light on that little matter._

 _So far, Osborn had no real evidence on the Cape's identity, but as he watched the video, some of his workers were comparing voice samples of Jake Fletcher from the security footage of that class trip._

 _Osborn's smug smile grew as he watched the costumed teenager jump around. He practically salivated at the thought of what a grown man with training could do with those powers._

" _More than a spider, you're my golden egg-laying goose," he said, in a tone almost affectionate._

* * *

"… And that's about it," Aaron finished, and I put a period at the end of my notes.

"Thanks for this, man," I put the notebook and pencil back in my utility belt as I spoke. With everything the Trio got me, what Aaron just told me, and the rumors Bob heard, I had an advance on crime of about two weeks.

That doesn't sound like a lot, but it's New York, so I had about thirty organized crimes per day to look forward to.

Surprisingly, I was _actually_ looking forward to them.

"No problem," Aaron cracked open one of the beers from the six-pack I got him. "I gotta say, I'm starting to like this whole… _thing_."

"Yeah?" I was sitting on the edge of the rooftop we used as a meeting spot, and he was in the middle so that no one below could see that he was working as my informant.

"Yeah," he took a sip. "I was just doing it 'cause you'd send me to jail otherwise."

"What changed it?"

He didn't answer for a while, just sipped his beer. "You know, I never really was the social type, crime-wise. I just had enough connections to get a gun and know where I could rob that wouldn't get me an ass-whooping."

I nodded. That seemed reasonable.

"But now that I poke around, some of the things these people will do…" He threw the can away. "Some of them live in the same fucking street as Miles, man."

I nodded. "If you want, I could try to keep a close eye on him? Make sure no one messes with him? I've stopped schoolyard bullies before, I'll do it again."

"Nah, man, people would notice. Besides, Miles' a fighter. He ain't afraid of no bullies."

I laughed. Yeah, anyone that could take up the mask wouldn't really be afraid of bullies.

That sounded kinda like ego-stroking, huh?

* * *

 _Osborn stood on a metal walkway, overseeing the ongoing experiments of Project Arachne._

 _So far, there had been no success in recreating the spider that made Spider-Man. The idea that a sample of the original spider or the product of the original might be required had been thrown around a few times, and Oscorp was starting to consider it._

 _Said original spider was dead, and had been thrown away in a moment of carelessness. Osborn had made sure that the appropriate punishments had been handed out._

 _However, as time passed, Spider-Man both proved the value of his mutation, and showed that it was going to be harder and harder to obtain a sample of his DNA. An entire team of analysts was dedicated to watching recordings of his fights, and the data showed a clear increase in strength, speed and durability. Not to mention that he had started to actually use techniques beyond proper kicking and punching._

 _With a final look at a screen that showed a red sign declaring the latest batch a failure, Osborn came to a decision._

* * *

"And it's done!" Sue said, handing me the new glasses. I walked over behind a privacy screen she'd set up and put them on my face. I blinked as the world went from blurry to HQ.

Johnny had messaged me about his sister wanting to talk to me. Turns out, he mentioned how I needed glasses, and she made some special glasses that would adjust to my needs as time went by. She also made several sets of lenses that worked the same way for my masks, which was awesome of her.

"Unstable molecules are bullshit," I muttered. "Thanks for this, Sue. Constantly getting new glasses while my powers adjusted was starting to get expensive."

"No problem," she smiled. "Reed's been looking over what your friend sent, and he was about to call you over anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he sent this formula for something called Kinetic Goo?"

"He finally figured it out?"

"I guess so, but Reed was too excited to explain it."

"Basically, it's Super Kevlar, but incredibly light and something you can put inside a hoodie or something."

"… Oh." Sue whispered, clearly shocked.

"Yeah, Peter's a genius," I said, proud as always when someone recognized my best bro's brains. "He's a big fun of you guys."

"You're a good friend for getting him this opportunity, then."

"Bah, nothing he wouldn't do for me given the chance." I put my mask back on and slipped the glasses back into my utility belt. I'd replace the glasses later. "Is Johnny here?"

"Yeah, he's in the kitchen, I think."

"Great, I'm gonna see if he wants to foil a bank heist," I rushed out of Sue's lab.

* * *

About an hour later, Johnny was sitting on a rooftop, watching me walk tightrope on a wire.

"So, you're just like, strong, balanced and constantly alert?"

"Pretty much," I started doing ballet pirouettes to show off. "It's not as showy as being a human star, but I've been training to make the most of it."

"Clearly," the younger Storm said, watching me spin like my name was Billy Elliot. Eventually he spoke up, "It was weird, stopping that heist."

"How so?" I did a full split on the wire. "I'm probably biased, because that's just my Friday evening."

"Yeah, but most of my hero-ing is like," he gestured vaguely. "Going to another universe and punching a space-tyrant, you know?"

"Not really," I dropped to the side, grabbed the wire with one hand, and flipped up, doing three back-flips, before landing on fourth position. "I mainly focus on street-level stuff. But I get what you mean. When you spend so much time stopping the universe from blowing up, it must be weird to get a reminder of how there's still stuff like muggings, no?"

"Yeah, exactly!" he said, pointing at me. "I guess I'm just surprised."

"Well, you don't have to worry about it," I left the wire and sat next to him, grabbing my McNuggets and moving my mask up to my nose. I tossed the nugget up and caught it in my mouth. "I'm here for the streets; you're there for the planet, right?"

"… Yeah," he bumped my shoulder. "Yes we are."

* * *

 _Harry was blathering about some inane thing or another, and Norman was ignoring him with practiced ease._

 _Lately, he had been having trouble focusing on anything but Jake. That wasn't much difference with Harry, disappointments weren't worth Norman's focus, but the parasites at OsCorp's director's board had noticed his waning attention. Some were moving to stab his back, but they were being dealt with as he read._

 _Apparently, his gambit had succeeded. The hired assassin, disguised as a common mobster, had managed to knick Jake with a knife, obtaining a sample of his blood in the process._

 _Of course, Norman had the man killed for hurting his precious specimen, but that wasn't important._

 _From the sample, OsCorp scientists had managed to develop a physical enhancer. It wasn't much compared to the abilities Jake was beginning to demonstrate, but that was fine for starters._

 _The second phase of Norman's plan was beginning._

 _Now if only he could get that Ben Parker annoyance to sell him the rights to Spider-Man's image. He was lucky that he'd wormed his way into Jake's affection, or Osborn would have had him killed a long time ago._

* * *

The sun was setting, and I was still parkouring around the fucking city. Peter was finally having dinner with Gwen's dad.

(He didn't know that he was the Chief of Police, and I didn't tell him, on account of how funny that was.)

Gwen had been putting off letting them meet out of fear of how her dad would react to Peter's… Peter-ness. It was a big moment, so I told Peter that the new web formula (that wouldn't freeze in fucking autumn) could wait for tomorrow.

I jumped between rooftops, and stopped to watch the sunset.

"Hm," I muttered. "This would look better a few hundred more feet in the air."

"Miss your webshooters?"

"Yeah," I could hear Black Cat flinch in surprise at my lack of surprise. She probably thought she'd sneaked up on me. "What's up, Cat? You caught me in a good mood, so I probably won't chase you down."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah, I'm _feline_ great."

She groaned, and I cackled.

"Listen, I happen to be in need of a hero, and you happen to be the only one that would take the bet," she stared at me as I turned around. "Even if you happen to be wearing a dorky sweater."

"Hey, my mom knit this!"

"Jeez, what are you, twelve?"

"On a scale of one to ten, sure," I grinned. "Age-wise, I'm fifteen years old, actually."

She seemed surprised. "Wait, what? I thought you were like an immature adult or something."

"Nah, I'm an immature teen."

"Huh," she shook her head. "Anyways, I happen to be in trouble with some seedy people."

"You stole from someone important, probably Tombstone, and want to manipulate me into the middle of a gang war so that you can steal something even more important then get away."

She stared at me, I stared back.

"Um, I mean…" she was sweating, and I could hear her heartbeat picking up.

"Sounds like fun, I'm in."

"What?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, pulling out my notebook and leafing through it. "I've had Tombstone's personal address for a while, but I didn't have him with his hands dirty until now. You think he has something important stashed there?"

Black Cat blinked some more, before she shook her head again. "Uh, yeah, there's this big important necklace, it was kinda like the Hope Diamond, except with worse security."

"Cool beans," I put my notebook back into my utility belt before I started walking. "Come on, time's a-wasting."

She took a second, but started following. "You're a weird one, Spider."

"You think so?" I shrugged. "I just don't see the point of all the running around. I mean, it can be fun, but sometimes I'd rather jump to the end, no fuzz or muss."

"Hm," we started running, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. "I'm sixteen."

"Pardon?" I almost tripped and ate it.

"I'm sixteen," she repeated. "So, you know, might want to show respect to your elders, Spidey."

"Hey, if you wanna call yourself old…"

"Shut up!"

We shared a laugh. I could see how someone could fall for her.

Not that I would do something that dumb, of course. I'm not an idiot, Dating Catwoman rarely ends well.

* * *

" _Mister Osborn, are you sure about this?" the person asking this was one of the scientists, a mousy little thing that was doing a terrible job of hiding his attraction to Norman._

 _He didn't pay much attention to him, and only gave a silent nod as he was finally strapped down to the slab. The young scientist was clearly charmed with his stoic determination to "advance science", as evidenced by the luminescent blush that decorated his face as he finished preparations. He was the only one that Norman was comfortable giving the controls for the device, on account of his gullibility._

 _The capsule closed around him, and needles pierced his arms. The device was based around the one used to make Captain America, but with better technology, of course. Norman felt that this was fitting, as he too would become the best of humanity._

 _The Serum entered his veins, and Norman's world became_ _ **fire.**_

* * *

As it turned out, Tombstone's little mansion was packed with armed goons. Cat and I had tried to sneak in at first, but that had lasted about a minute before things went predictably sideways, and we had to fight the rest of the way.

"By the way," I said, knocking out a goon with a swing of one of my sticks. "Could you do me a solid and _not_ betray me?"

"Hm," Cat said, giving an exaggerated pout as she Judo-flipped some guy into the furniture. "I don't know, let me think on it."

"Come on!" I begged, kicking a guy so hard in the stomach that he got stuck in the ceiling. "I'll let you get away with one heist."

"Only one?"

"Fine! Two free heists if you don't stab me in the back, and that's my final offer."

"Sounds good to me, but only if I can pick what heists go unpunished."

"Well obviously, I'm not trying to screw you here."

"You're not?" as I knocked out the last mook on that floor, she gave an overly-dramatic expression, wrist on her forehead and everything. "And here I thought a handsome gentleman was finally showing interest!"

"First off, you don't know what I look like," I deadpanned. "Second, I very much doubt no one else showed interest in you before."

"No, but not a lot of gentlemen," she laughed.

"You're not going to dupe me because of some flirty remarks, Cat," I kicked the door to Tombstone's office open and gestured for her to go ahead. "Lady's first."

She fanned herself, earning a roll of my eyes, and went inside. It was _very_ hard to keep my eyes off of those swinging hips. Odin give me strength.

"Now, if I were a bulletproof albino mobster, where would I hide a million-dollar treasure?"

I didn't even look at her, just walked to a huge portrait of the Tombstone hung behind his desk and tossed it aside, revealing a safe. I punched the thing, breaking the door, and pulled out a diamond necklace. "Bada-bing, bada-boom, here's a necklace for the lady."

"It's so pretty I'm going to ignore you said that," she whispered, taking it in her hands. "It's so beautiful! It's so gorgeous! It's so…"

Her face fell. "Fake. It's a fake."

"Dammit, I thought this might happen." I groaned. "Where do you think he actually hid it?"

Black Cat shrugged. She was probably going to say something before a klaxon started sounding off. We looked out the window and saw that the reason the alarms were finally sounded was the large amount of cops entering the property.

"Hey, they got my message!" I cheered.

"You have a cop's number?" Cat asked, looking surprised.

"No, but you can text 911."

"Really? I never knew."

"You learn something new every-" I was interrupted by the sound of a flushing toilet.

As it turned out, I had been so focused on making jokes for Black Cat and impressing her by instantly finding the necklace that I didn't notice the door to the left of Tombstone's desk. It opened to reveal a private bathroom and the man himself rushing out, one hand adjusting his pants and the other holding his gun.

I had been spending months training with Matt and Natasha. If someone shot at me, I was ready and prepared to do anything short of catch the bullet with my hand, and I would probably be able of doing that eventually.

But I'd never had a partner in Cape-ing before. So when Tombstone shot at Black Cat, I panicked and did the first stupid thing that crossed my mind.

I jumped in front of her and caught the bullet in my stomach.

I was a bit busy lying on a pool of my own blood to pay attention, but the next thing I remember is Cat picking me up, slinging one of my arms over her shoulders. She had a bruise on her jaw, and I saw Tombstone, with his head resting in the splintered remains of his desk, out of the corner of my eye.

"You took him out on your own?" I asked, a bit woozy from blood loss. "Nice work, Cat."

"Shut up," she bit out, clearly angry. "Why would you do something so stupid, Spidey? I could take the damage."

"I panicked," I admitted. "Besides, I'm a superhero, you know? Can't let damsels get hurt on my watch."

That sounded really corny out loud.

"I'm no damsel, idiot."

"No, but I like to pretend."

"Just be quiet, I'll get you out of here," she helped me out of the office. "I know somewhere you can get help."

I made a sound that was vaguely related to the word 'no'. "I can take care of myself. I have a first aid kit."

"Where?"

"Queens."

"That's on the other side of New York, dumbass." She put us in a hidden elevator I didn't know about. She left me against a wall and pressed a button, while I pulled out some bandages from my belt and covered up my wounds.

"Was this elevator part of your betrayal plan?"

"… Yeah?"

"Nice, very elegant. I had no idea this was here."

"Thanks, I guess." She shook her head. "This'll take us to Tombstone's secret garage. I'll drive you to Night Nurse's place."

"Oh, she helped me out once," I finished wrapping and secured it with webs. "I didn't really meet her, because I was out cold."

"What happened?"

"A bird monster person tossed me over the New York skyline."

Cat blinked at me. "Your life is so weird, dude."

"Ha! Ain't that the truth?"

* * *

I had honestly expected Cat to leave while Night Nurse patched me up, but she was waiting on the lobby when I came out.

"How are you?" she asked upon seeing me.

"Bah, I'll be fine by morning," I shrugged. "I heal fast."

"Right."

We stood there in silence. I knew she probably had something dramatic to say, so I waited.

This seemed like one of those moments that would build romantic tension in a Will-They-Won't-They relationship. She'd say something about how she didn't need looking after, I'd brush it off, and we'd go our separate ways.

"I didn't need you to jump in like that," right on cue, Cat.

"You did ask for help, dude."

She frowned, before walking forward. Whoa, was she going to kiss my cheek? How scandalous!

I let her lift my mask up to my nose, expecting her to turn my head. She looked comically focused on the task at hand, hands on my shoulders and staring into my mask's lenses.

Wait, how was she going to turn my head if she held my shoulders?

WHOA, OKAY, THIS IS A KISS! FULL LIP CONTACT!

I reacted (eventually) and by pure instinct started practicing what Natasha taught me. Every lecture on lip movement, hand placement, and so on.

After a while, we separated, breathless and red up to our ears.

"Oh, wow," she gasped.

"Hm," I said, in a moment of clear-spoken intelligence.

"I, uh," she coughed into a fist and stepped back, forcing a teasing smile. "I have to go. Call me, Spidey."

She winked and ran off. Her teasing was set back by her bright red blush.

Eventually, my brain rebooted and I pulled down my mask. That was… uh…

"That was adorable," I turned around and found Night Nurse there, smiling. "You kids were cute. Now please get out of my clinic."

I nodded and ran off, embarrassed.

* * *

 _Norman didn't have much recollection of everything that happened after the machine went off. All he had was flashes of color, the feeling of metal breaking under his fists, the sound of a snapped neck, and his own laughter ringing in the laboratory._

 _Of course, it was a trivial matter for someone with Norman's resources to dismiss all questions as to what happened to that idiot scientist. He had bigger concerns now._

 _Ever since he first saw the results of his specimen, Norman had been developing an obsession. The part of him that created OsCorp from nothing wanted what an army of Spider-Men could make._

 _The part of him that drove him forward despite all adversities wanted what Spider-Man could do._

 _At his core, Norman Osborn wanted power in all its many forms. He had money, he had charisma, and he had political pull._

 _But what Jake could do? He didn't have that, and until dear, sweet Jake came into his life, there was no real way for him to obtain it._

 _Had he been a man more prone to navel-gazing, Norman might have pondered if this was the real objective of the Arachne Project all along: to discover a way for him to empower himself._

 _That didn't matter anymore. The formula had brought a clarity that Norman had lacked before._

 _His glider was ready, and so were all his other tools._

 _There was only one thing that really mattered anymore: how he stacked up against his beloved specimen._

* * *

I was sitting on a water tower, head on my hands.

' _What the fuck did I do?_ '

I knew how dating Black Cat ended, every time: the gap between Hero and Criminal became too wide, and everyone ended up hurt.

' _Can't I just avoid that if I know how it goes?_ '

No, I couldn't.

' _But can't I?_ '

Dammit, no!

I sighed and started pacing on the rooftop, trying to clear my head.

… Maybe, if we went slow and careful…

Maybe it could be worth it?

A small smile appeared under my mask, before I sighed and shook my head.

I was a stupid, hormonal idiot, and I was going to date a sexy cat lady because I was an idiot.

' _Whatever,_ ' I turned to the direction of Queens. ' _It's late, Peter should be back from dinner with the Stacy's, and I need to replace all my lenses._ '

[ _Two turbines, approaching surprisingly quietly. The sound of a round object being thrown in my direction._ ]

I jumped out of the way just in time to dodge some kind of orange ball, which exploded upon contact with the rooftop.

I landed on all four on a streetlight, and I stared at the cackling form atop a high-tech glider.

"Little early for Halloween, buddy," I grimaced. "You caught me in a bit of a mood, so why don't you fuck off back to Pumpkin Town and try again next week?"

"Oh, I _will_ come back for Halloween!" The Green Goblin said, floating down to be face-to-face with me. "I just wanted to give you an early notice…"

He got in close so that his face was almost stuck to mine.

"The Green Goblin is coming for your head, Jake Fletcher!"

He probably wanted to freak me out. Surprise me with an explosion then drop my civilian name.

Bitch please.

"You're playing with fire, Osborn," I growled.

He reeled back, and that was all the opening I needed to punch him in the face, sending him spinning down to the street.

He caught himself just in time and floated up to my level, a little far away.

Mess with the best, die with the rest, Normie.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: And away we go!**

 **Bet none of you expected another chapter so soon, huh? I surprised myself, really.**

 **Of course, that just leaves me worried about if I rushed it, but screw it! No guts, no glory!**

 **I tried to make Norman Osborn kinda creepy, I think I mostly succeeded. Next chapter will be mostly fighting.**

 **Please leave Reviews, they keep me going. Catch y'all later!**


	15. Halloween (Part Two)

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Okay, three things to go over before the chapter:  
**

 **First off, I totally forgot I said the Parker home didn't have a guest room. I'm sorry, please forget that, they do have a guest room.**

 **Second, this chapter is the longest one yet and I'm really proud of it, except for all the parts I think I did wrong because I'm never happy with anything I do.**

 **Third, it gets pretty dark at the end. You've been warned.**

* * *

 **Chapter #13: Halloween (Part Two)**

* * *

It had been about three minutes since I started fighting Osborn.

"Fuck!" I shouted, flying through a window and landing inside a Starbucks.

In those three minutes, I'd landed on my side and started bleeding anew from my bullet hole, gotten damn-near blown up around six times, and I got a cut around the width of my arm because his glider shot a saw at me that I couldn't dodge.

I had the feeling it was only gonna get worse from there. I was right, naturally.

I picked up one of the shards of glass and tossed it with a flick of my wrist. It smashed against Osborn's helmet, making him flinch back. In that time, I jumped forward, landed with both feet on his head, and jumped onto the roof of the Starbucks before running away, limping slightly as I gained some distance going from rooftop to alley walls to rooftop.

' _Okay, calm down and think,_ ' I took a deep breath, held it for four seconds, and released it. ' _Remember your training. First, the enemy; he looks like the version from the original movie trilogy, so he's armored, and so far I've seen him take explosives, saws and bullets from his glider. I don't know what else he's got. So far, there wasn't much banter, so I can't get a read on what character interpretation I'm dealing with. He knows who I am._ '

I let myself fall into an open dumpster and discreetly closed the door, just in time to hear the glider pass overhead. ' _What do I have? I broke one of my batons bouncing a bullet, so I have one left, I'll probably have to throw it. My webs aren't good for more than a few seconds of movement unless the area heats up suddenly, maybe I can arrange that? The web bombs won't be much use either, but I think I can use them for momentary distractions._ '

The glider passed over again, and I held my breath. A small part of me wondered how bad my infection was going to be for nesting in garbage with a bleeding wound on my gut.

' _Couldn't this fucking bastard wait until Halloween? I was already starting preparations,_ ' I grumbled, pulling out my phone and looking up Natasha's contact information. ' _I shit on all the fucking early-bird-ass supervillains._ '

I sent her a text: _I'm in deep fucking shit. There's a villain tied to my origin story that knows my identity, I need you to go to the Parker house and make sure nobody gets shot. Everyone there knows my identity, and also Gwen Stacy. Make sure that if she shows up, you shove her in the house and look after her_.

She replied in seconds: _copy and good luck_.

It was followed by a winking emoji, to which I rolled my eyes.

I mean, sure, proper text grammar while hiding in a dumpster might not be the coolest thing, but that's how I roll, motherfucker.

"Oh, Jake!" Osborn crowed, flying around in circles. "If you don't come out soon, I might just have to bomb the whole area!"

I rolled back on my back, putting both feet against the door. When I heard Osborn approaching the spot over me once more, I kicked with all my strength, throwing the door off its hinges and into him. He crashed off course, letting me jump out of the dumpster.

I saw that Osborn was still disoriented, so I ran in the other direction.

' _Maybe I can get help? I'm near the Bronx; maybe I can find Luke Cage and use him as a blunt weapon?_ '

I heard the glider right itself and jumped out into another alley, crouching to hide in the shadows.

' _If I hide too much, he gets bored and bombs everything,_ ' I thought, ' _I'm sure he wasn't bluffing on that one. This means I gotta fight him, but I can't. So I'll talk._ '

I looked at the maniacally laughing CEO.

' _Yeah,_ ' I deadpanned in my brain, crawling up a wall. ' _That's gonna go great, I'm sure._ '

"Hey! Osborn!" he turned around and laughed at me, moving his feet to turn on the machineguns. "Before you shoot me, mind if we talk?"

He seemed to think about it, before moving his feet again and leaning back, making the machineguns pull back into the glider. "Yeah, I got time."

' _Playful, maybe?_ '

"So, we both know each other's identities," I said, casually waving a hand around. "What I'd like to know is why you're hunting me down. Are you making an army of Spider-Men? Maybe you're trying to get a sample to repeat me?"

"Oh, no, not at all, my dear Jake," he said, voice dripping with honey. "I already got a sample! That's how I can hold up against you!"

' _Goblin serum, made him unstable,_ ' I noted.

"Let's be honest here, you're just managing because of your million dollar toys," I smirked as I heard his teeth grit. "I'm keeping up with you with malfunctioning equipment and a bullet hole in my gut, so I think we know who's better here."

"SHUT UP!"

' _Ah, that's the ticket._ ' I grinned viciously.

"That's it, isn't it? Poor little Osborn, always trying to prove himself."

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure which Osborn I was dealing with. My first instinct was to say Norman, but it could be Harry too. Didn't really matter at the moment, they both had this need to prove themselves. Harry _because_ of Norman, but still.

"I made you, you insolent worm!" Oh, never mind, it's Norman. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here!"

"Bleeding and fighting some jolly green douchebag on a rooftop?" I deadpanned. "Well, in that case, thank you _so much_ for the opportunity."

He stomped his foot and an orange ball sprung up into his waiting hand. "I'LL BLOW YOU TO SMITHEREENS!"

"Nobody says smithereens anymore!" I shouted back, running down the side of the building. When he tossed the bomb, I shot a web line and swung for a moment before it broke.

' _Three seconds, more or less,_ ' I thought, jumping off a building to control my fall and hitting the street running. ' _Okay, I think I can win this._ '

I was soon proved to be wrong, however.

* * *

The footage from a chopper showed as Spider-Man ducked behind a car to avoid bullets. After a few seconds of calm, a gloved hand popped out to flip off the Green Goblin, who then fired again.

The car was then picked up and thrown at the Goblin, who barely flew over it, giving Spider-Man enough opportunity to toss a web bomb to him. It was countered mid-air with a flamethrower from Goblin's glider. Jameson, who always seemed to be ready and eager to give commentary regarding the wall crawler, was giving color commentary about the expenses of that thrown car.

"This is bullshit!" Peter shouted at Black Widow. "We can't just let Jake fight him! He's wounded!"

"He is," Natasha acknowledged. She'd herded the teenagers into the house after they returned from dinner at the Stacy home, and was standing in front of the front door of the Parker house like a guard dog. "But he asked me to look after you, and that's what I'm going to do. Seeing how you want to jump into a Cape fight, he was right to do that."

Peter glared at her, but she didn't seem impressed. Ben was sitting in front of the television, glaring at it like Peter had never seen him glare, and May was at his side, holding his hand and crying silently. Gwen was biting her nails on the couch, her eyes going from the TV to Peter.

"So you're just going to let him get killed by some maniac on a fucking hoverboard?!"

Faster than Peter's eyes could follow; Black Widow's hand flew and smacked Peter across the face. His glasses flew off, and he stared at the spy in shock.

" _Listen_ ," she hissed. "I care about him to, he's my student. But he's right about that Goblin person, he's the kind to go personal and attack friends and family. He'd never forgive me or himself for letting you all get killed. Right now, we just have to watch and have faith that he'll make it out of this."

Unbidden, a memory played in Peter's head. It was the week before the science fair in third grade, and Peter was almost sick with nerves. Jake was trying to make him feel better, and Peter asked Jake if he had faith in him.

"Faith is for people that don't have evidence," Peter repeated. "I know he's going to make it out of this, because I'm going to get him out of it."

He stormed off to the basement, missing the impressed look on Black Widow's face.

* * *

Felicia entered her mom's apartment and lazily dropped in her bed.

' _What a day,_ ' she thought, stretching her body and making her joints pop pleasantly. ' _I think I might have screwed myself over._ '

That job with Tombstone had been a disaster. He'd been making trouble lately, and Felicia had decided to complicate his life a little by stealing his most valuable possession. And if she made some money by selling it to the highest bidder, that was just business.

Of course, he saw her coming, same way that Spider-Man somehow saw her plans of betrayal coming, and replaced the necklace with a fake.

Oh, and let's not mention Spider-fucking-Man.

Heat gathered in Felicia's cheeks without her permission. She'd been surprised when he returned the kiss, and even more when she _liked it_.

' _Fucker, making me blush,_ ' she growled in her head. She'd heard of things like this. People getting stuck in a dangerous situation together, and falling in love because they confused their rushing hearts for love instead of adrenaline. This was just that, that was the only reason they'd kissed, and no other.

She sat up on her bed and grabbed her remote. ' _I need a distraction._ '

She turned on the TV, hoping for something stupid and mindless. In a monkey paw-worthy twist, she found exactly that: Spider-Man, fighting someone in bright green armor.

' _Dammit_ ,' she was about to switch the channel when the chopper's camera zoomed in, and she saw the way Spidey looked.

His stupid black sweater was torn to shreds, and his suit wasn't much better. The part of his gloves that covered his knuckles was split apart, along with the skin on his knuckles.

The lower half of his mask was a little torn, and she could see his teeth grit together and his lips pull back in a snarl as he dented the green maniac's armor with a punch that sent him flying.

His body was littered with little cuts, some bleeding more than others.

She could see him clutch his stomach as he dropped to a knee.

' _The bullet wound,_ ' Felicia realized, hand flying to cover her mouth. ' _He said he'd be fine!_ '

He got that wound catching a bullet for her.

He got it to save her.

 _To save_ _her_.

 **To save her.**

' _DAMMIT!_ '

Black Cat rushed off to save the idiot.

* * *

' _Okay,_ ' I thought, crashing into a car after I caught a bomb with my face. ' _This looks bad._ '

I glared up at the Daily Bugle helicopter as it shone a light on me. I raised an arm and flipped it off.

' _Huh, when did he cut me there?_ ' I thought, looking at a cut from the buzz saw balls that ran diagonally across the length of my forearm. ' _Was that or before the one on my knee?_ '

"What's the matter, Spidey?" Osborn taunted. There were five dents I could see on his armor: two on his chest, two on his helmet, and one in the crotch of his suit. I was mad that that last one didn't do jack-shit. "I thought you could keep up with me!"

In lieu of answering, I turned the arm I was using the flip off the chopper towards him.

"Charming." He said drolly.

"I try," I smirked. Slowly, I stumbled to my feet more than I actually had to, giving me time to get a feel of the area.

So far, I had made him blow up three cars on the street. The area around us was heating up, and I was sweating like crazy under my suit.

' _Okay, this should work, maybe?_ '

As fast as I could, I shot four webs: two to his chest, and one to each arm.

I grabbed them tight and started swinging him around. When I saw how the webs didn't immediately break, I made a feral grin and spun him faster and faster. I think I heard him vomit in his suit before I let go and tossed him down the street, making him bounce over and over.

"Suck it, Osborn!" I cackled.

Snarling, he flew back towards me. I shot two webs into the turbines, making them stay still. With this, Osborn was unable to dodge the web lines I stuck to his helmet. I swung him over my head into the ground, and back again the other way, like a metronome.

When I was done, he was stuck into the pavement, the glass on his mask was broken, and the armor was more dents than pavement.

I fell on my ass, panting.

"Yeah," I groaned. "Who's your daddy, motherfucker?"

[Another fucking bomb flying at me.]

"SHIT!" I back flipped just in time to avoid being hit by the pumpkin bomb. The explosion still burnt me (more) and threw me further down the street.

I looked up, and saw a sleeker-looking glider, pitch-black and quiet as a grave, floating towards me.

' _Fuck everything,_ ' I thought.

"Credit where it's due, that was a solid move, Osborn," I said. "I wish I'd seen it coming."

Cackling came from the crater, as Green Goblin detached from the glider and stumbled to his feet. "I'm _so_ glad to hear you say that, Jakey!"

"Ugh," I recoiled, throwing up a little in my mouth. "God, I take it back. I think I can see your boner through the armor."

He –and I swear to Thor I'm not lying– looked down to see if that was true.

I threw up some more in my mouth and ran the other way.

Behind me, I felt Goblin get on the new glider and rush towards me.

A stab of pain from the bullet hole made me clench my whole body up, and I fell on my face.

' _You know,_ ' I groaned, stretching hand forward to crawl away. ' _The comics really misled me as to how much bullets hurt._ '

My sight was getting blurry, in part because I lost one of my lenses. I flipped to be on my back and I forced myself to lift my head.

Goblin was slowly flying at me.

' _Fuck,_ ' I stumbled back, and stopped as pain bolted through me.

* * *

Foggy, Karen and Matt where together in the couple's apartment. Foggy and Karen were watching the TV, and Matt was facing a wall. Foggy had offered to narrate how the fight was going, but Matt told him he already knew. That's when Foggy realized that Matt was faced in the direction of where the fight was taking place.

Matt had been holding his cane with both hands in a white-knuckle grip, and it'd cracked in half minutes ago.

He wanted to jump in and help. He'd grown of fond of Jake, despite of how much of a little shit he could be, and now he had what was essentially –to him– a first-line seat to him getting the shit kicked out of him.

He wanted to put on the tights and run there to help him fight back. He'd tried so hard to tell himself otherwise, but in a moment of brutal honesty to himself, Matt admitted that he missed being The Man Without Fear, if only because he wanted to beat that (apparently green) bastard into the ground.

But he couldn't. God, he wanted to, but he couldn't.

He felt the scar that ran down his back and slowed him down with random bursts of pain.

After that fight with Bullseye, Matt had tried to be Daredevil for about a week before Karen, Foggy and Steve staged an intervention for him. They forced him to face the truth that he dodged out of fear of being nothing without the devil in him.

Belatedly, Matt realized that Karen was wrapping bandages on his hands where he cut himself on his crushed cane.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled at him.

Matthew Murdock was sure he'd fallen out of God's favor a few beatings ago.

Still, he clasped his wounded hands together and prayed.

* * *

Felicia was running from rooftop to rooftop, using her grappling hook to swing from buildings. She'd never tried before now, but it felt like a good moment.

' _Please don't let me be late,_ ' she begged. ' _Please don't let me be late._ '

She flew for a moment before throwing her grappling hook again and swinging in a pendulum once more.

She could see the smoke from the fight and the helicopter in the distance. She swung off the corner of a building and looked down on Spidey, flat on his back and bleeding, and the green maniac, approaching on his hoverboard –or whatever it was.

She extended her grappling hook to lower herself and landed on the villain with a kick that sent him flying back.

"Nice entrance," Spider-Man coughed.

"I thought you didn't do banter," Black Cat muttered, eyes trained on the green armored bastard.

"I like it, I just suck at it," the hero groaned, tearing off the tattered remains of his sweater and forcing himself to stand. "I think you should run away."

"Is now really the time for macho bullshit?"

"No," Spider-Man replied, eying the maniac in the hoverboard, who was just floating there, staring. "But Osborn here is the type that makes it personal, and tracks you down to your house so he can drown your cats in front of you and slit your throat."

"Well, as charming as that image-" Felicia stopped. "Wait, did you say Osborn?"

The lenses on Spidey's mask did that thing where they looked like widened eyes.

"Uh…" she could practically hear him cussing in his head. "No?"

"That's Osborn?! Richest-guy-after-Tony-fucking-Stark Norman Osborn?!"

" _I am so fucking bad with secret identities,_ " Spider-Man whispered.

"It's not nice to reveal your friend's secret like that, Jakey-poo~" Osborn –apparently– crooned. Spider-Man made a gagging sound, and Felicia felt a little nauseous too.

"He's fifteen, dude," Black Cat said.

"Trust me, he knows," Spidey said.

"Also, your name is Jake?"

"God dammit."

Osborn flew forward, two machineguns coming out of the hoverboard and firing on them. Black Cat jumped to one side and Spidey to the other, shooting two webs at the maniac's helmet and blinding him.

' _Okay,_ ' Felicia thought, as she shot her grappling hook into the hoverboard and pulled it to throw off Osborn. ' _I think we can do this. He's just a bored pedophile millionaire, that's nothing compared to the bulletproof gangster._ '

* * *

Matt had come running as soon as he got the message from Natasha. She explained everything with the efficiency that could be expected of her, and now he was rushing to where the fight was on Natasha's bike.

The wound on his back slowed him down in almost every way. He couldn't move faster than a power-walk without being paralyzed. More than once he'd tried to rush somewhere and been found on the ground. Luckily, bikes didn't require much movement. There was danger involved, since powers or not, Matt was still _blind_ , but he actually liked that.

On his back was a small bag holding four web cartridges and six web bombs. According to Peter, Jake's 'Guy in the Chair', they should hold up in the colder weather.

Matt drove past the fight, not even stopping, as he tossed the bag vaguely in Jake's direction and drove off. He couldn't fight, but he would do everything he could.

[A female voice saying "What the fuck?"]

[Jake's chuckling as he opened it and put on the new cartridges. "That was a friend. Let's kick this asshole's ass."]

A grin stretched on Matt's lips.

This much he could do.

* * *

 _Things were not going great for Norman Osborn._

 _First, Jake had surprised him by revealing he was aware of his identity, and started their fight early._

 _Then, he sassed him! The nerve of the child, acting like some **ungrateful brat when he should be on his knees thanking him!**_

 _After that, there was the little bitch in the black suit and that random person on the motorcycle that threw his Jake a bag of equipment. He didn't have a chance to wonder what that was about before Jake's last baton flew at his face._

 _And suddenly, Jake's webs weren't breaking after a few seconds, and Norman realized the difference between himself and his boy._

 _He outpaced him at everything, whenever Norman tried to gain distance; his glider was pulled off-balance, giving the white-haired bimbo a chance to hit him. Then Jake pulled Norman towards himself and punched him into the ground, or he threw him at a building, or something!_

 _Jake was cheating, he'd gotten help and a second wind after Norman had tired himself out._

 _The Green Goblin would have to even the odds._

 _Later._

 _"ENOUGH!" Norman screamed, activating the only function of his glider that he hadn't already. Clouds of dark smoke and several flash bangs erupted from the glider. While the two were blinded, Norman got the last word. "I'll be back, Spider-Man! And I will have my glorious victory!"_

 _Had he stayed, he would have heard Jake mutter, "God, you're such a fucking ham."_

 _As he flew away, he thought to himself. How could he stage a fair fight between them?_

* * *

I looked at Black Cat.

She looked at me.

"So…" I coughed into a fist. "How's about that weather, huh? Sure is cold lately."

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

I was currently tied to a bed in Night Nurse's clinic. I didn't need to be tied, but Night Nurse said that I couldn't be trusted to take care of myself, and I felt bad for her having to deal with me, so I didn't break out.

Except for the arm that I accidentally tore free when I coughed into my fist. I quickly put it back in place and kept it still so that it wouldn't look out of place.

"Was that really Norman Osborn?"

"Yup," I nodded. "Yet another millionaire with too much money, time, and weapons. Tony Stark is a real trendsetter, you know?"

"What's his deal with you?" straightforward, not distracted by jokes. She's the type that's a teaser, not teased.

"Far as I can tell, this is how it goes: he has some obsession with me because one of his radioactive spiders bit me. He sees himself as my father for this. However, he also sees opportunity, because of what I can do thanks to the spider. And, since he used some of my blood –which I don't know how he got– to make some kind of… Goblin Serum, he sees himself as my equal." I took a deep breath before continuing my dissection of Norman's character. "As far as I can tell, he sees us as two of a kind, and that makes our thing bizarrely romantic. To him. I think he's a gross lunatic."

"Huh," she said slowly. "That's… thorough. Did you know him before the spider thing?"

"Nah," I shrugged. "I got this from fighting him."

She raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

Before she could say anything, the door opened and Peter ran screaming. "Jake!"

He stopped at my bedside and looked me over. My suit was completely taken off (except my mask) and I was wrapped in bandages like a mummy.

"Oh my god, Jake, are you okay?"

I stared at him, and slowly raised a hand to point at Black Cat.

He looked at her, looked at me, and then looked at her again with a shocked face. Cat smirked.

"Uh," he cleared his throat. "I mean…"

"She already knew my name, relax," I sighed, dropping my arm. "Goblin spilled the beans. Not all of them, but my name."

"Yeah," Cat nodded, leaning on the bed and giving me a teasing smile. "Now I just have to look through every Jake in New York until I find the one with spider powers and pouty lips."

"Excuse you, my lips are not _pouty_."

She chuckled, and smiled at Peter. "Hey, I'm Black Cat."

"Peter," he said, stretching a hand for her to shake. After she did, he leaned in and whispered, "Sexy cat thief?"

I nodded. He gave me a thumbs up. I flipped him off. I could see Black Cat holding in laughter out of the corner of my eye. I flipped her off too.

"Nice to see you've kept your cheery disposition."

I flipped off Matt as he entered my room, hand behind his back.

"Where are my roses, punk?" I asked, all smirking. "I got a bad boo-boo, I deserve roses. Or chocolate."

"That's Valentine's Day," he pulled a stuffed bear from behind his back. "If you get hurt, you get stuffed animals."

"Hm," I grunted, taking the bear. At this point, I'd broken the bindings on both arms. Whatever, I could take a drug dealer's wallet and give the money to Night Nurse.

The bear was brown, had glittery beady black eyes, and was holding a heart that said 'Hope You Have a Bear-y Fast Recovery'.

"I can live with it," I decided, putting the bear next to my head.

"Yeah, on that note, I should leave," Black Cat declared. She had a bandage around her forearm from the one cut that Norman got on her. Most other wounds she'd either dodged on her own or I'd pulled her away from them. The claws on her gloves were filed down to nubs from using them on Norman's armor. "This is getting a bit too full of heroes."

"Are you not one?" Matt asked, clueless.

"Alright," I, on the other hand, raised a fist for her to bump. "Thanks for your help, you really saved my ass.

She kissed me and left out the window with a wink. When I regained my senses, Peter and Matt were clapping.

"Fuck both of you," I groaned.

That had been a pretty good end to a pretty shitty Monday.

It was seven days until Halloween.

* * *

 **Tuesday:**

A lot of people came to visit while I recovered. More than I expected.

The Parkers were all there, of course. May cried and left two tin boxes full of cookies by my bed, which were empty in an hour. Ben smiled and said he was proud. Peter said he'd have all the cartridges replaced with the new formula by the next day, which was when I planned to leave (despite Night Nurse's orders). Gwen was also there, and she gave me a light hug because she didn't want to hurt me. I told her that I could have a hole through the lung and she still couldn't hurt me with her noodle arms. She punched me in the shoulder for that.

Ben mentioned that my biological parents hadn't noticed anything was off, which didn't surprise me.

The Fantastic Four showed up too, with Johnny saying that if he hadn't been busy punching Doctor Doom he'd have helped. I told him I was jealous he got in a fight with Doom, and he said that he was pretty awesome. Ben ruffled my hair, Sue squeezed my shoulder, and Richard offered to build me some kind of Doom Laser, which I turned down because I wouldn't be able to lug it around everywhere.

Strange and Illyana showed up after the Fantastic Four were gone. Strange said that Wong sent his best wishes and a Tupperware full of sandwiches, and Illyana gave me a hug.

Natasha showed up when no one else was there and gave me a tight hug, whispered in my ear that if I ever scared her like that again I was going to be the next guinea pig for her experiments with nerve gas, and disappeared. Her version of saying she loves me.

I woke up from a nap with lipstick smeared on my cheek and a little paper on my bed, which had a doodle of a black cat and a phone number.

Tuesday was pretty damn good.

* * *

 **Wednesday:**

I woke up around eight, and immediately snuck out of bed with Cat's number in my hand.

I'm sure that more than one person was surprised to see Spider-Man, wearing a hospital gown and bandages, parkouring around town with one empty tin box in each hand. I heard more than a few wolf-whistles whenever the gown got caught in the wind.

I got to the Parker home, changed into actual clothes, finally took off my mask, and just screwed around with my family.

I fixed a step on the porch with Ben, helped May with changing a light bulb, and talked with Peter about his Baxter internship.

I called my informants and let them know that I was still alive, which got relieved shouting from the Trio and a scolding from Aaron over how I needed to be more careful.

At the end of the day, I called the number Cat left me. She picked up after the first ring.

"Who is this?" she said.

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man," I said. I was sitting on the roof of the Parker home, wearing a new sweater that May knit while I was resting in the clinic.

"And what might a hero want with a criminal such as myself?" she teased in a tone that was perfectly husky.

"Oh, I just wondered if you wanted a go at another crime lord," I looked at my notes, updated thanks to my informants. "Word on the street is of a new player, one Madame Masque, if that piques your interest? We can grab coffee after that."

"Sounds _purr_ fect." She said, and I think I fell in love.

Wednesday was awesome.

* * *

 **Thursday:**

I smiled as I looked at Madame Masque as she hung upside down in a cocoon of webs from the roof. Black Cat was checking the pockets of her coat and the wallets of her mooks.

"Man," I sighed. "It's good to be back."

"I'm _so_ happy for you," MM said, glaring at me.

"It's kinda weird how expressive you can be," I noted. "The only parts of your face that move are your eyes, but you portray such a wide range of emotion with them. I've seen you do angry, annoyed, frustrated, furious…"

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting," Black Cat said from where she was taking someone's wallet.

"And stray from you, my darling?" I said, in as gaudy a tone as I could manage. "Never!"

"Never mind, keep flirting."

"I don't want your boyfriend," Madame Masque complained.

"Yeah, this is what every guy wants," I muttered. "To be tossed around like a hot potato. Really feeling appreciated here."

"Aw," Cat put her arm around my shoulders and hugged me. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, sweetie. C'mon, I'll buy you something pretty with the mobster's money."

"You two are real cute," Madame Masque commented. "I wonder if you'll stay that way after I skin you alive."

"She really adds to the scene, doesn't she?" I said, tapping her shoulder so she'd turn around.

"Yeah," Felicia said, lifting my mask and planting a kiss on my lips.

After that, we swung (literally) by Vito's store and got two Styrofoam cups of his finest shitty coffee.

Thursday was pretty good too, especially when she kissed me goodbye.

* * *

 **Friday:**

"I missed this," I noted, lying on James' bed. "It's been too long since we hung out."

"Yeah, I missed your drain on our pot," Ace snarked, passing me a joint. Duke had declared they were going to try their hardest to get me high five minutes ago, and they were still unsuccessful.

"Get bent, Ace."

She blew me a kiss.

"So, what are you gonna do about that Goblin guy?" Duke asked, tossing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth.

"I've been focusing on healing for now," I said. "The way these things work, I'll probably have to face off against him on Halloween. So, I'm gonna find him, and I'm gonna break his fucking legs."

Silence formed in the apartment.

"You know," James said, "You kinda have a dark side to you, man."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's all good." Ace wrapped an arm around me. "It's nice to know we got a maniac like you on our side."

I laughed. "Your side?"

"Sure, the side of law abiding citizens," she said, sucking in smoke from her joint.

I laughed more.

"I think the stuff's finally hitting him."

"It's about god damn time!"

I decided to make time to hang out with the guys more.

* * *

I found Black Cat later that Friday, sitting on a rooftop with a picnic basket next to her and gesturing for me to come over.

"Howdy, Cat," I said, sitting next to her. "What's up?"

"Well, I stumbled upon this here bottle," she said, pulling out a bottle of wine older than both of us combined. "And I thought I might as well share it with my boyfriend."

"You should call him, then," I joked.

"Shut up and drink, Jake," she pulled out two paper cups from the basket and offered me one.

After a while, we were watching the street below, sipping on wine.

"So, you stole this, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, just checking."

She looked at me out of the corner of my eye. "You're gonna end up being a lousy hero if you keep up that attitude, Spidey."

"If I were a gambling man, I'd bet you stole this from some rich idiot with more beach houses than common sense, right?"

"… You're not wrong."

"Well, there you have it." I finished what was in my cup and tossed it into the basket over my shoulder. "I never liked the bourgeois."

"You're a communist?" Cat asked, amused.

"God, don't even joke about that," I made a face. "I can just imagine Jonah's comments."

She burst out laughing. I was chuckling along, when I heard a mugging on the alley below us.

"Wanna play hero with me?" I asked, getting up and walking down the side of the building.

"I'm good, Jake." She waved me off, and I dropped to stop the mugging. I heard her hum lightly, as if lost in thought, before I was busy fighting.

When I was done, she was gone. But she left a little note that said 'My name's Felicia'.

Seeing how nobody was around to see me, I danced a little and cheered.

* * *

 **Saturday:**

Two days until Halloween. I wasn't quite fully healed, but I was feeling well enough for light work outs. Widow spent the whole time in the gym helping Matt train me in dodging by pulling out a fucking Glock out of her purse and shooting at me. I'm proud to say she didn't hit me once.

After that, I went around stopping crimes. I took a bunch of dealers' wallets and gave the money to Night Nurse, with a little note apologizing for vanishing and breaking the restraints. I think she didn't mind that some of the money had coke on it.

I planned out the fight with Osborn in every scenario I could, playing every scenario I could come up with in my head, and figuring out the best ways to solve it.

Somewhere along the like, I got a text from Felicia telling me she'd be out of town. I replied with one that said I'd miss her.

I thought about adding a kissy-face emoji, but that was a bit too much for a four day relationship.

Or I might just have issues.

The point is that not much else happened after that. That Saturday ended peacefully.

* * *

 **Sunday:**

"So what you mean to tell me…" I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "… Is that you met Thor and you called him a hunk to his face?"

Illyana, sitting on the other side of the table with her red face on her hands, nodded miserably.

"… Was he flattered?"

"He thanked me for my advances but said I was a bit too young," she groaned.

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

She kicked me under the table, "It's not funny! I made an ass of myself in front of the future king of Asgard! I can't do that if I'm going to be the Sorcerer Supreme!"

"You think Strange never made an ass of himself? He did it like five minutes after meeting you," I tossed a French fry into the air and she caught it grumpily with her mouth. "I think you'll be fine, Blondie."

In lieu of answering, Illyana gave her burger a pouty bite.

I sighed and reached over to pat her head. "There, there… I'm sure Thor will forget about it. He must get comments like that all the time."

That actually cheered her up a little. "I guess you're right."

We finished our meals and left the diner to head to the movies.

"What are we gonna see, anyways?" Illyana asked, intrigued. "I've only seen like eight movies, and I hated most of those."

"Oh, I know." I had made her watch all of those movies, and six of those were variations of Sharknado.

They made a whole fucking franchise in this universe. The Marvel universe is awesome.

"Then what…" Illyana trailed off as her eyes widened and she saw the sign on the theatre. A sign that said 'Sharknado VII: Shark Faster, Tornado Harder'. "NO!"

"Yup," I said, watching my blond Hellion friend drop to her knees.

"NOOOOOO!"

I snickered and smacked her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll buy you an extra-large popcorn bucket."

She followed me into the theatre with a grumpy expression.

We came out of the theatre laughing our asses off and mocking the corny acting.

Life was good that Sunday. It was the break I needed before the big day.

"Hey, Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to be okay?" Illyana's cloak of levitation was disguised as a red hoodie, and she was sinking her chin into it, not meeting my eyes. "Tomorrow's Halloween, and you said that's when the Goblin guy was going to attack."

"Yeah," I smiled. "I think I'm ready. I planned and everything, which is more than what I usually do."

"… Strange said I shouldn't go out and fight," she muttered. "My training's not really done, and the only way I could help is with the demonic powers, but…"

"Illyana," I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay, really. Johnny sent me like a million texts trying to convince me that he could help, but he's got a microverse mission or something, and you have training. I'll be fine; you just worry about training for universal stuff or whatever."

She nodded and leaned on me. "Still, I'm going to get better. I want to save you, to pay back my debt."

"There's no debt," I ruffled her hair, "Only friendship."

She joked about how ominous I made that sound, and I shoved her.

I was really proud of her, how comfortable she'd gotten around others.

I went to sleep on my bed at my biological parents' house, glancing at my phone. Whenever I knew a big event was coming up, I had trouble sleeping. I passed out around 4am, staring at my phone.

* * *

 **Monday again:**

I woke up at 12pm, to a chilly room. The Parker's had allowed me to skip school all week, having called the school to explain I'd fallen down the stairs and would be staying at a hospital for a while because I broke my nose.

I burrowed into my blankets, still mostly asleep, when my phone started vibrating. Grumbling, I grabbed it and woke up as I processed what I was seeing.

It was an invite to a video call from an unknown number.

' _Fucking hell, Osborn,_ ' I thought, ' _Couldn't this wait until, like, noon?_ '

I accepted and came face to face with the villain himself.

"Jake, baby!"

"Osborn," I rubbed my eye. "Let me guess, you want to make a threat or something?"

"Something like that," he tapped at his phone and switched the camera, letting me see what was in front of Osborn.

Sitting there, tied to a chair, beaten and bruised with a gag on her mouth, was Felicia. She was shaking slightly, and I could see tear streaks on her eyes. It suddenly struck me that she, unlike the Black Cat from the comics, was very much still a child. She didn't have the experience her counterpart did.

My screen cracked from the pressure of my grip.

The camera switched again. "Now, as you see-"

"Where and when?"

"Pardon?"

The screen cracked more and I repeated myself with a growl. " **When. And. Where.** "

An insane grin stretched on his lips. "George Washington Bridge, don't be late, honey!"

" **I'm gonna snap your fucking neck,** " I replied, breaking my phone with my grip.

I tossed aside the useless thing and suited up as fast as I could. I'd planned for this, love interests are always in the line of danger in this god-forsaken universe.

It was minutes before I arrived at the bridge. Goblin wasn't there before me, so I sat there, planning my next move.

I took a few deep breaths, and when I heard the glider, I turned around with both fists raised and ready. Green Goblin was there, holding a tied up Felicia.

"Hello, Jake!"

" **Shut your whore-fucking mouth.** "

Before he could retort, I threw a baton at his face. He barely dodged by tilting the glider to the side, but I stuck a web to his chest and pulled him at me, cocking a fist back.

And then he threw Felicia off of the glider.

Obviously, I let him go. He did exactly what I wanted him to do.

Here's the thing: if he didn't throw Felicia off the side of the bridge, he could use her as a human shield. But he counted on me diving to rescue her, probably killing her in the process.

Instead, I tapped my right webshooter while I shot the other one at a lower part of the bridge.

The next moments felt as if they passed in slow motion.

I pulled the web line to make myself fall faster, until I was passing by Felicia, while webs wrapped themselves around my hand. With the unwrapped hand, I grabbed her and hugged her to me, and I fell in a nosedive with a fist stretched out.

You wanna know a tip in case you find yourself plummeting to your water-themed death? Falling into water from high-up only feels like hitting concrete if you don't break the surface first. If you do, the tension's different, and it's just like hitting water.

Throw a knife, a baton, or a weight, and time it with your own impact and you'll only be wet and scared instead of dead.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of time, so I couldn't pull of my other baton.

Luckily, I had enough time to use my web wrappings.

My fist hit the water, and if I hadn't been too busy gritting my teeth I would have screamed as an awful 'CRACK!' sounded.

I'm not sure how I did it –between the cold, the pain, and the adrenaline, everything is a blur. But somehow I managed to climb up to the bridge. I was using my uninjured arm to hold Felicia against me, and my injured arm wasn't much good, so I must have walked up the side of the arch with just my legs.

I didn't care. I was exhausted, my arm felt like it was full of broken glass, and all I could do was shake give Felicia CPR.

"God, please, please be alright, please," I begged, almost incoherent. "Please, I can't- I can't lose you, please, I can't fuck this up, please-"

She flopped over and vomited water, and I thought it was almost the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I hugged her to me as she took desperate breaths.

I swung us to Night Nurse's clinic, her on my back and me swinging with one hand.

Norman didn't approach us, but I knew he was watching us go.

I planned what I was going to do to him the whole way.

* * *

"I'm not letting you go out there!" Night Nurse screamed. Felicia was resting in the other room, and I'd wrapped up my wrist with some more webs. It was still horribly broken, but it wouldn't flop around in a fight.

"Oh yeah?" I asked casually. Night Nurse was standing in front of the front door, arms crossed. "Tell me more about that."

"Listen, you're still hurt from last week, and now your wrist? You'll die!"

"Trust me, I _really_ won't."

"Just let someone else deal with that… Goblin! The Avengers, Matt, anyone else!"

I stared at her. I realized that, in fact, she was a good person. She barely knew me, but she was genuinely worried about me.

"What's your name?"

She was taken back, but answered. "My name's Linda. Linda Carter."

"Listen, Linda, the truth is that I respect you. I really do. But you have to ask yourself…" I made a vague gesture in her general direction. "Do you really think you can stop me from leaving?"

She glared at me. I glared back.

"Dammit," she took a step aside.

"Thanks," and before she could hit me with the Taser she was pulling from her back pocket, I was gone.

I didn't know where Norman was.

But I knew how to get him to come to me.

* * *

 _It hadn't taken the Green Goblin much to find Jake's little love note._

 _After all, even millionaires in power armor on gliders found out when a costumed vigilante slammed into the biggest screen in the Big Apple and roared the name 'Osborn'._

 _Really, Jakey could be such a romantic~_

 _Deciding to break out all stops for their big showdown, the Goblin activated the smokescreen function of his Glider, coating him in dark smoke. He arrived at the scene with a dramatic cackle, and almost swooned when he laid eyes on his enemy._

 _He was still sitting on the broken screen. The cracks expanded under him like a spider web. It was so perfect that the Goblin wished he had a camera._

" _Hello, Spider-"_

 _And then everything went wrong._

 _He didn't realize when Jake threw them, but five web bombs suddenly detonated around the Goblin's Glider. His transport was pulled off-balance from the sudden weight, almost throwing the Goblin off, were it not for his magnetic boots._

 _Then the Spider flew at him and punched him hard enough that he went flying into the ground._

 _The Goblin bounced once before the Spider, caught him mid-air and swung them both out of the public's eye. He threw him into the floor of some dirty alley._

 _This was all wrong. They were supposed to have a great showdown for everyone to see. The people of New York were supposed to see the hero they never truly appreciated fight with his all and slowly lose his life at Norman's hands. It was supposed to be the great showdown between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin. Jake Fletcher and Norman Osborn._

 _Instead, Jake kicked the Goblin into the ground and said, "No."_

" _No? What do you-?"_

 _Norman was pulled forward with a web and punched to the ground with a web-covered fist._

" _We're not doing this song and dance. There's not going to be a showdown. Halloween isn't over, and this isn't personal. Or rather, it is, and that's why it's not." Jake walked over and crouched next to Norman, lifting his helmet with one hand. "You made it personal, so I'm going to do the one thing that will hurt you more than any beating I can give you, and I'm taking the personal part away._

" _You're not my nemesis. You're not special. You're not any more of an enemy to me than the Shocker or Electro. You're just another schmuck with power armor."_

 _Jake slammed his head into the ground, breaking the glass of his helmet, before raising his head again._

 _Norman's fearful eyes met the cold, dead lenses of Spider-Man's mask._

" _I'm going to break you, Osborn. I'm going to break your arms, then your legs, then your spine, and then your reputation. I'm going to OsCorp, and I'm gonna pull out every dirty, amoral secret you had out of your computers, and I'm gonna post it for everyone to see._

" _Your son will be taken away by Social Services. Your company will either fall to pieces or they will cut you and your name out. You will spend the rest of your life penniless, imprisoned and hated. And I'm going to forget you. I will go on to live a long, long life, and I'll forget you as soon as I'm done with you."_

" _P-please," Norman blubbered. Spider-Man slammed his head into the ground again._

" _You wanted to be my nemesis? You can't handle all my hatred, Osborn. You're just a little man that got high off of some green goop, trying to be a shadow of what I am." Spider-Man lifted his helmet and stared with no sympathy as Norman cried. "Maybe this is me going over the edge. Maybe I should be taking a breather, getting off the shock of almost losing Felicia, and dealing with this with a clear head. But fuck it, you pissed me off."_

 _Norman screamed and begged for mercy for ten seconds before he passed out from pain._

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Okay, I'm not gonna be surprised if I lose some readers.**

 **Anyways, that's the chapter. Expect an epilogue to wrap things up.**


	16. Halloween (Epilogue)

**Chapter #14: Halloween (Epilogue)**

* * *

Gwen Stacy arrived home to a sweeping hug from her father.

"Oof!" the air was pushed out of her lungs. She pried herself free. "Dad, what's wrong?!"

Captain George Stacy was a good, kind, decent man, a role model, and a decent father. He was also notoriously not a hugger, which meant that Gwen was quite surprised at the sneak attack.

"I thought something happened; you didn't come back for hours!" her dad's face twisted into a glare. "That Parker boy didn't try anything, did he?"

"NO! Dad, no, there was just a traffic jam because of the whole Spider-Man thing!"

A second of relief went through George Stacy, before his expression darkened for a different reason, "Right. That."

Gwen rolled her eyes and walked away. "I still don't get why you don't like him. He seems like an okay guy."

When he didn't steal her food, that is.

"He's an unregistered vigilante," George scoffed. "He's just going around, no supervision, doing what he thinks is right."

"Maybe he _knows_ what's right."

"Yeah…"

* * *

 _Spider-Man landed in front of George, his mask lifted up to his nose and holding a villain bound in webs by his teeth. George wondered why he wasn't using the other hand, but saw that it was covered up to the wrist in webs. He wondered if something happened to the kid._

 _Then he saw the state of the villain._

 _The armor was twisted and dented_ everywhere _. The helmet was torn to pieces, but George couldn't make out any features under all the blood. The arms and legs were bent in all the worst possible ways, and once he saw the way the armor on his back was broken, he knew that even if his legs weren't shattered at the knees, he'd never walk again._

 _The officer next to George started to vomit as Spider-Man tossed the villain in front of him._

" _What the hell did you do to him?" George asked, horrified._

" _He made things_ personal _."_

* * *

"… I'm not so sure about that, pumpkin."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Her dad didn't know what he was talking about.

She knew Jake on a personal level. She knew he was a good guy, even if he could be kind of annoying.

* * *

Harry was bored.

Dad was gone; he'd apparently had some kind of meeting to go to, so Harry was having dinner on his own.

Honestly-

The door was blown off the hinges by the flying body of one of the security officers and Spider-Man entered the room like he owned the place.

Before Harry could hide, a web slammed into his chest and he was pulled to the spider's waiting hand.

He got lifted by the neck of his shirt.

"I'm not in the mood for bullshit," the vigilante said, as Harry's bowels emptied themselves. "Where's your dad's personal computer?"

Harry blubbered, and Spider-Man started shaking him.

"Focus, Osborn! Your father's computer! **Where the fuck is it?!** "

Harry pointed.

"Thank you."

Spider-Man dropped him and marched off. Five minutes later, he walked back out of the room.

Before he crossed the door, he turned around and said, "Your dad chose to become one of my villains. It didn't work out for him. I installed a virus I had prepared on his computer, so all of his dirty little secrets are being exposed. If I were you, I'd change my clothes and start packing my shit."

Spider-Man marched out.

* * *

"… and a ruptured lung," Tony finished, standing in front of a screen that showed what was left of the villain. "Although I don't think that part was on purpose. It was probably an accident from when he was breaking half of his ribs."

Steve rubbed his chin. The kid he'd talked to when they were fighting in the A.I.M. base didn't seem capable of hurting someone as much as Tony reported. Then again, you couldn't really come to know someone after a few minutes of talking and fighting.

You _could_ , however, get to know someone by mentoring them for a little over a month, so Steve turned to look at Matt and Natasha, who were sitting around the back, whispering to each other.

"What are your thoughts on this?" Steve asked, drumming his fingers on the table. "Out of everyone here, you two know the kid the best."

There was a silence as everyone else in the room (Thor, Tony, Clint, Scott and Vision) turned to look at the pair.

Matt's mouth pulled in a wince. "Spider-Man's the type that tries to keep his personal life and his life as a hero separate. Everything that happens to him as a Cape, he brushes off. One time he told me about the time he got electrocuted, and said that he didn't hold a grudge against the guy because ' _it's all in the game_ '."

"Your point being…?" Tony asked.

"He wouldn't do this unless the other guy forced him to take it personal." Matt's usual sunglasses were removed, so they could clearly see his empty gaze turn into a glare. "My guess is that the villain tried to hurt someone he cares about."

Natasha nodded. "I don't think Spider-Man would turn into another Frank Castle, but we might have to talk to him about this."

Once again, Nat's ability to read others left Steve impressed. In a way, the captain hadn't been able to put a name to his fears, but now that she'd said it, Steve could finally understand the gnawing feeling at the back of his head.

"We can't be too careful," Tony said, making a gesture. The screen behind him changed to show a video of Spider-Man rushing an entire gang of twenty-eight adults and knocking them out within four minutes. "He's already been trained by you two, displayed talent in reading enemies and hitting them where it hurt most, and-"

Tony stopped, tilted his head sideways, indicating that he was receiving a report from his earpiece, before slamming a hand into his face.

"-and he just leaked every little secret Osborn had, doing what I'd been trying to do for months. _Again_."

If the situation weren't so serious, Steve would've laughed at the hit to the ego Tony just got.

As it was, the soldier decided that they would talk to Spider-Man as soon as possible.

* * *

"How's he holding up?" Peter asked Ben, as May baked.

"He grabbed my six-pack of beer, went to the roof, and he's been listening to Talking Heads for about five minutes." Uncle Ben grumbled. "So, you know, could be good or bad."

Peter nodded and went upstairs. He opened his bedroom's window, poked his head out, and called out, "Jake!"

No answer for a moment, and then footsteps as ' _Take Me to the River_ ' got closer. Jake sat at the edge of the roof, "Yeah?"

"You okay, man?"

"More or less," a loud slurp, "Cat broke up with me, which makes sense."

"What happened?"

"Eh…"

* * *

 _Felicia sat on the other bed with her back to me as Night Nurse fixed my wrist. Night Nurse had yelled at me a little when I showed up, but that was it._

 _Once she was done, Night Nurse left the room. We stayed in silence for a while, before my girlfriend finally spoke._

" _Did you get the guy?"_

" _He's in the police station as we speak. He's not going to hurt anyone else."_

" _He's a rich white male; he could get out of jail in seconds."_

" _Not if someone happened to leak his every dirty secret into the internet for anyone to see. Even still, I doubt he could do much."_

 _She didn't ask what I meant, which was good, because I was having a little trouble swallowing what I'd done._

 _We stayed quiet for a while longer, before she broke the silence again._

" _I was scared, Jake."_

" _I'm so sorry."_

" _I know." She didn't turn around. "I thought I was going to die."_

 _I wondered what I was supposed to do. How would this work out for Peter, if he were Spider-Man?_

 _Well, this would probably be the scene where she finds out my identity._

…

 _Fuck it, why not?_

 _I took off my mask. "Felicia, I-"_

" _Jake." She said, cutting me off. "You know those scenes in hero movies where the girlfriend gets kidnapped, and the hero saves her and tries to break it off, and she says something like 'you're worth the trouble'?"_

" _Uh, yeah?"_

" _I don't think you're worth the trouble."_

…

" _Oh."_

" _I'm sorry."_

" _It's fine, I understand."_

" _I-"_

" _Cat, it's okay. I get it, really."_

" _You're not mad?"_

" _I mean, I'm not exactly_ happy _, but I understand."_

 _She turned around._

" _I'm sorry."_

" _The only one that should apologize is me."_

 _She stared at me, furrowing her brow, before a chuckle escaped her and she shook her head._

" _You're so hard to read with that mask on." She said._

" _I get that." I said._

* * *

"… It was just typical you-not-me stuff, y'know?"

Peter winced. Jake tended to avoid sharing anything too bad; which it had to be if he just skipped it over like that. "I'm sorry, man."

"Nah, I mean, I get it, right?" another slurp. "We were like, a _week_ together. It was fun, sure, but no one goes ride-or-die that fast. And she wasn't the ride-or-die type, anyways."

"You're not sad?"

"I wouldn't say that," the can was crushed, and another got opened. "I wouldn't say she cut things off in a very gentle way, but she was right."

Peter swallowed, unsure of what to say. He stretched a hand out. "Pass me a beer?"

A web gently dropped one off.

Peter took a drink and immediately spat it out, "God! It tastes like pee smells!"

"Yup," another loud slurp, sounding a bit smug to Peter's ears. "I've been forcing these down for a while."

"Why are you drinking it? You can't get drunk!"

"I dunno, I guess the aesthetic of it all?"

"You spent too much time on Tumblr."

Jake snorted with amusement.

They stayed like that, with Jake drinking and Peter holding the can.

Suddenly, Jake said, "Huh, how about that?"

"What?"

"First snow of the year."

Peter looked up. Indeed, tiny white specs were gently falling to the ground.

"God, this must be giving your angsty ass such a boner."

"Bite me, Pete."

They watched the snow fall in silence.

"Come inside, Jake."

"… Yeah, okay."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S** **NOTE:** **SO! Short, I know, but it's just to wrap things up before the next arc, which is written down in my notes as 'Winter Fun'.**

 **On that subject, I'm sorry for all the people that thought I was ending the story in this chapter, I phrased that poorly. But god, the amount of support from my readers...**

 **I can't put into words how much I love you guys. You're all the best.**

 **So yeah, please wait until my next chapter!**


	17. Back in Black (and Blue)

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **SO! A lot's happened since I last wrote on this story:**

 **My computer got destroyed, I turned 17 in April, I got a new computer, I saw Endgame (it was super fucking awesome), I found out I'm nonbinary (weird experience, but also awesome) and most recently, I saw John Wick 3 (best one yet).**

 **So, yeah, sorry I took so long. I had stuff happening. And writer's block.**

 **But now I'm doing this!**

 **Also, at some point in this chapter my gender identity's gonna come up. It won't be a big deal to the story, but it is part of me and Jake is supposed to be a reflection of myself, if one that's grown differently due to experiences.**

 **If you hate it, tough shit. If you don't, awesome, feel free to stay.**

 **So yeah. This chapter is more for catching up before the next few, which were inspired by watching Baby Driver, Logan, and the first few episodes of The Umbrella Academy in the same weekend. So, this one is quite short, I'm afraid.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter #15: Back in Black (and Blue)**

* * *

Do you know how long it takes for a broken wrist to fix?

Eight weeks, more or less. Probably more. The more severe breaks might take six months to fully mend.

I dived out of a bridge, broke surface tension with my fist (which probably wouldn't have worked if not for comic book physics, God bless 'em) and it took me four weeks to fix it.

Naturally, I kept the cast on for eight weeks and two days, on account of me actually trying to keep my secret identity a secret.

... despite all the people that know it.

Shut up.

Anyways, I was back Spider-Man-ing before my wrist was fully healed, swinging as little as possible with one hand and moving with parkour for the rest of the patrols. I had to overlook a smaller area, but I still managed to stop quite a few crimes. As soon as I was fully healed, I came back in full force.

At that point, I was kidnapped in the middle of the night.

* * *

The bag was removed from my head, and I glared at Natasha. At least she didn't put a lamp aimed at my face-that was a nice detail of her part.

"I have a new phone, you know? Maybe you could have called?"

"That's not how I roll." She pulled up a chair and sat in front of me. The sedatives she'd given me had worn off on the drive to the secondary location, so I was aware that we were in an abandoned pig farm on the outskirts of NYC. "We need to talk about Osborn."

"Avengers worried I'm turning into a little Frank Castle?"

"Pretty much."

"Yeah, I saw that coming," I broke the handcuffs binding my wrists to the back of the chair and scratched my chin. "So, what do we do?"

"Explain your reasoning to me," Natasha leaned forward. "Why did you take things as far as you did?"

"Fucker knew me. My name, my identity. My family, too." I shrugged. "Hell, he found out about F- Cat. Tossed her out of the bridge, if you recall."

"Ah, right. You two were in the middle of a fling."

"I wouldn't call it a fling."

"It literally lasted a week."

"... okay, it was a fling."

She smirked, before turning serious again. "So, you broke his back?"

"Among other things. Osborn was obsessed, in the creepiest ways possible. He was obsessed with being my nemesis. So, the best way to put an end was to make it so he could never be that. No money, no limbs, no tech, no pride. Just a broken, weeping man in an alley."

"Pretty extreme."

"I'm not exactly _proud_ of it," I admitted. "But _no one_ threatens my family."

Natasha nodded, understanding, before sitting back.

We stayed in silence for a while, until I spoke. "So, now what?"

"... I understand why you did it. I had my fair share of personal enemies that I was... _less than kind_ to. Definitely more lethal than you were to Osborn." She didn't look happy to admit it. "... what about Osborn's son? Harry, right?"

"Got caught by CPS. A friend of a friend of a friend works there, so I made damn sure he got sent somewhere good. I'm not about to make more enemies for myself." I shrugged. "I have it on good authority that Norman wasn't that good a dad, so I might actually be making a friend here."

"Good," she thought it over. "I'll tell the others that you're good. But you _are_ under inspection now."

"Under inspection _how_?"

"We'll have another talk if you cripple anyone else. Probably a less friendly one."

"Less friendly than an abandoned pig farm?"

"Yes."

Oof, flat yes. Never good.

"Fair enough." I looked down at my legs, which were still tied to the chair. "Can I...?"

"Be my guest."

I broke free.

* * *

So yeah. I'd been taking extra care to not give too many concussions to everyone I fought.

Of course, those weren't the only things that happened. The Halloween Fight brought some more attention to me; more merchandise being sold, more crap from the Bugle, and...

"Someone ships me with Captain America?" I said, tapping away at my phone. "Damn."

"Yeah, Cape fans are a bit creepy. Some people in the community call 'em 'mask chasers'." Shocker explained, being webbed up with his gauntlets tossed aside.

"Hm," I put my phone away. "In a way, it's kinda flattering."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, I'm getting shipped with Stever-freaking-Rogers here." I shrugged. "Gotta admit, while getting shipped isn't hard, that's a nice fantasy."

"I didn't know you were gay."

"I'm not," I shrugged. "But I'm not dead either, so..."

"No, yeah, that makes sense."

We stayed there. "So, how have things been going for you, Herman."

"Ah, can't complain. Did a succesful robbery two weeks ago."

"I heard! I can't believe I forgot to congratulate you!"

"It's no biggie." He shrugged.

"Nah, seriously, I'll buy you a beer next time I see you."

"Why not now?"

"Cops are three blocks away," I reloaded my web shooters and fired a line to the nearest building. "See ya!"

* * *

"So, how's that wrist, Fletcher?" Flash asked at lunch.

"The cast kinda itches," I admitted, brushing myself off with my ' _good hand_ '. "Other than that, it's fine."

"I can tell," he said, looking behind us at Blake, who was sticking out of a trash can. "Weren't you supposed to stop that?"

"Oh, he's gonna start trouble because I beat him up? While my _wrist_ is broken?"

"You really think he's gonna think about that?"

"You really think I care?"

Flash looked at me. I grinned back.

"I am _so_ glad I don't mess with people anymore."

I chuckled.

"So, where do you think Peter and Gwen, anyways?"

"We're going to get them right now," I said, stopping in front of the Janitor's Closet. "Observe, my favourite magic trick: making two lovebirds appear."

I forced the door to open and they fell out, one on top of the other, and with Gwen's hand inside Peter's shirt.

"Lordy!" I exclaimed. "Doth this mistress of the night desire to tempt mine brother?"

"Fuck off, Jake." Peter groaned.

I chuckled. "C'mon, we gotta get to lunch."

"I was _in the middle_ of lunch," Gwen replied, raising a hand.

"Ew," Flash replied.

"No high-five for you." I said.

"Yeah, that was kinda gross." Peter chimed in.

"Fuck all of you, I know I'm funny."

They got up and we walked to our usual table.

"So, I like your skirt," I told Gwen. "Purple's a nice color for you."

"You think so?" Gwen looked at it. "Thanks! I wasn't sure when I bought it."

"Parker definitely liked it," Flash said, playfully shoving Peter's shoulder. "And what? You want one of your own, Fletcher?"

"I _do_ rock a dress. Maybe I should try skirts," I mused.

We kept walking. I turned and saw them all staring at me.

"What?"

"You'd wear a skirt?" Gwen said.

"You rock dresses?" Flash said.

"You think you rocked that dress?" Peter said.

"In order: Yes, yes, and fuck you, no one rocks stripes."

We sat down, and Gwen leaned closer. "Jake, are you..."

She looked both ways before putting a hand next to her mouth and whispering, " _Transexual?_ "

I raised an eyebrow. "Careful, Ms. Stacy. Those kind of words could make Sister Helen faint here, at the Mother Mary School for Fucking Nuns and Shit."

" _The_ most hardcore school for nuns in the U.S." Peter said.

"You know what I mean, fuckface." She slapped my arm.

"Well, I don't think of myself as a woman, but I never really felt like a _man_ , either." I shrugged. "I'm just me."

"So nonbinary?" Flash asked, surprising everyone with his knowledge of LGBTQ+ terms.

"I guess?" I shrugged. "I'm used to being called a man, and I got my name broken in, so I'm fine with nobody changing pronouns around me. I'd like it if you did, but I won't mind if you're more comfortable using 'he' and 'him' and all that."

Nobody said anything for a while.

Eventually, Peter cleared his throat. "This is my sibling, Jake. They're nice, even though they can be a jackass."

He shrugged. "I can get used to it."

I hid my smile behind a crappy cafetaria sandwich.

Whatever I did to deserve them, it wasn't enough.

* * *

I webbed the gun over to my hand and shot back at Natasha, without stopping my running around.

I deflected a bullet with one of my batons, shot again, and tossed the bullet when it ran out of bullets.

It nailed Natasha between the eyes, meaning the excersise was finally over. I sighed, dropped from the ceiling, and then on my back.

"So, how'd I do, coach?" I asked, starting to stretch next to her as she did the same.

"Not too bad," she said. "In fact, you did so good that we're done."

I fell out of my pose, which involved both feet behind the ears and holding myself up with one finger. "What?!"

"I've quite literally taught you everything I could without surgery and brainwashing." She shrugged. "You've passed."

"Huh," I sat cross-legged. "So, what now?"

"Well," Natasha pulled a key out of her pocket and tossed it at me. "Matt said that you can keep using the gym to train, so you do that on your own as well as you can. Other than that, go be Spider-Man."

I stared at the key, before putting it in my own pocket. This had been Matt's father's favourite gym. _His_ favourite gym.

This is where he trained to be Daredevil, to think he'd give me the key to it!

Then again... this is where I trained to be Spider-Man.

I fell back.

"You okay, little spider?" Natasha asked.

"I guess it just hit me." I looked at the key. "I'm really gonna be one of the big ones, huh?"

"Hey, don't get an ego."

"No, seriously," I looked at her. "I got training from Daredevil and Black Widow, I took down a crime boss when I was _starting_ , and-"

I gestured around us, as to simulate how big it really was, in a narrative and emotional sense, that I got the key to the gym.

"It's just weird to finally realize it." Spider-Man was always a big figure for Marvel. But I never really thought of myself as Spider-Man.

But maybe it was time I started to.

"Well," Natasha laid down next to me. "You're not alone. Keep that in mind, because I got in trouble whenever I forgot."

"Hm," I turned the key in my fingers. "Yeah, I think that's good advice."

* * *

"LET'S GET FUCKING WASTEEEEEEED!"

"And her top is off," James sighed.

"I'm amazed it lasted this long." Duke noted.

"Huh," I said. "Not that I looked, but Ace is... uh, _bigger_ than I thought."

"I thought the exact same thing the first time we slept together," James admitted. "But seriously, don't look or I'll cut your dick off."

"Damn!" I took a step back. "Didn't take you for the jealous type."

"We both are," Duke said. "So watch it."

"Okay, I'm sorry," I nodded. "Shouldn't have said that, it was wrong of me."

"Damn straight," Duke took a drink from his beer. "Anyways, how've you been doing with the info we gave you?"

"Pretty good," I smiled. "Between the tips I've been giving those cops you introduced me, and my own busts, we're really fucking the crime lords."

"Good," James nodded. "'Cause fuck those guys."

We all nodded. Nobody likes crime lords.

Ace slipped and fell out of the table she'd been dancing on for the last few minutes.

* * *

"You're getting slow, hot head!" I called back, rushing between buildings to cut a corner and pull ahead of Johnny.

"No, you're just cheating!" he said, shooting a fire ball to my web string just after I released it. "Damn it!"

I landed on the roof first, "HA! Another win for the Spider! Eat it, loser!"

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny dropped next to me, melting the snow around us and warming me up. "So, what does that make?"

"Me: 12, You: 13, and 5 Even."

"Still ahead, then," he smirked.

I tossed a snowball at his face.

Later, a picture of a snowball fight between Spider-Man and the Human Torch would circle the internet, making the popularity of the SpiderTorch ship skyrocket.

I never once stopped teasing Johnny about it.

* * *

"Ah~" I sighed, sipping a hot cup of cocoa, curtesy of Vito.

Winter was at full force, Christmas was fast approaching, and May had made me a new sweater, this one with a Christmas light pattern around the neck and sleeves, and the words 'Dear Santa: I was framed' on it.

I had my backpack with me, since the homeless gathered in alleys during winter and it might get stolen if I'm not careful. In exchange for not losing my stuff, I left them whatever food and timber for fire I found, plus directions to shelters for those that would accept them.

Despite everything that happened in Halloween, I-

' _Wait, this is the part where I think something optimistic and then I'm interrupted by an explosion._ '

I looked around, straining to hear anything.

...

...

...

I slowly took a sip of my cocoa.

 **BOOM!**

"I KNEW IT!"

I swung away, and was soon shocked to find a little girl being accosted by generic mooks, wearing helmets that only covered the top half of their heads.

The girl was faring well for herself, jumping around, dodging bullets and-

Were those claws?

* * *

 **To be continued!**

 **'Cause I'm a cocktease, that's why.**

 **It's good to be back.**


	18. Web 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Are you guys excited about meeting Laura?**

 **Well, that ain't gonna happen just yet.**

 **First, while I work on the next chapter, I had this idea and I wanted to write it out as fast as possible. So! Ladies, gentlemen and my brethren in between, I give you...**

 **Web #2: Elseworld short story!**

 **(yaaaay)**

* * *

To be honest, at first I'd thought I just had a shitty reincarnation into my old world.

I was raised in a religious orphanage, which meant nuns actually broke rulers on my ass from the sheer amount of misbehaving.

That all changed when the submariner attacked. That's when I realized the world that I inhabited.

Now, I'd already been planning to join the army. I wasn't the biggest fan of the organization, but even I knew that when nazis show up, you take up arms.

Now? Now I knew that the nazis where twice as dangerous as they appeared.

And that I could be as well.

So, one night, I sat at the edge of my bed, and I prayed for the first time in either of my lives.

"I don't know if you're listening," I whispered at the little spider that was hanging from my joined hands from a thread. "But I need to at least try, because I'd never forgive myself otherwise.

"I know I'm not your usual pick for a chosen one, but I swear I'll be as good as I can be." The spider stoped descending the web, and started climbing back up. "I will wield the power you grant me with utmost responsibility. I will fight evil where I find it. I will inspire others, and push back evil."

The spider crawled to the tip, and I opened my eyes to look at it. "Please, connect me to the Great Web of Fate."

Honestly, what else could I do? It was the powerset I was best acquainted with.

The spider climbed down, bit me on the backhand, and climbed to the ground on a web.

I winced at the pain, but decided that was as good as I was going to get, and climbed to bed.

"Hey," one of my roomates, a kid called Blake, whispered. "Where you praying? You never do that."

"... Desperate times call for desperate measures." I shrugged.

I was seventeen. The next day I turned eighteen.

Powers or not, I was joining the fight.

* * *

 _I dreamt of webs, and spiders, and of being eaten._

 _The pain wrecked through my body and I screamed until I bled from the mouth._

 ** _GIVE UP_**

 _it said_

 ** _YOU ARE NOT WORTHY_**

 _And I replied._

 _"I will be."_

* * *

When I woke up, I was in twice a better shape that I had been.

A bit of discreet testing, and I found I had all the powers of Spider-Man, including my own organic webs.

I bid everyon goodbye, and walked out with all the rulers in my bag as a final prank.

"Alright then," I muttered as I entered the enlistment office. "Let's do this."

* * *

The army accepted me fast enough when they saw my physique. And when I showed my powers, I was sent a secret bunker.

"So," I eventually asked, as I was sat down in a round table with important-looking people. "Does it help your secret organization remain secret that you put its name on big letters everywhere?"

I gave the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo behind the others at the table a pointed look.

"Don't be a smartass, son." General something-or-another grunted. "Where did you get your powers?"

"Spider-Goddess."

"Don't play around!" he slammed a fist on the table, not noticing all the spiders crawling over the wall and gathering behind him. "We're in war, and we need every advantage we can get!"

 **IN THAT CASE**

The Other said

 **I SUGGEST YOU WATCH YOUR ATTITUDE WITH MY CHAMPION**

Everyone screamed, except for me.

I just waved and smiled at the eldritch abomination. "Hey, mom!"

 **HELLO MY CHILD**

"That's your mother?!" General Whatever squeaked, pointing at Other.

"Not really, I'm just joking," I looked at my patron. "What do you need?"

 **JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU GOT TREATED RIGHT**

It started unmaking.

 **I'LL TAKE MY LEAVE NOW**

The spiders crawled away, and soon we were alone in the room.

"SO! Are we doing this?"

* * *

And we did it. They gave me a mask, a rifle, a revolver, and sent me off to Europe.

The Super Soldier serum was just in its infancy, so I was the Captain America stand-in until the real deal came along.

"They've got us pinned!" one of my squadmates, O'Hara, screamed.

"No shit, soldier!" I screamed back.

We were in some charming rural town of WhoCares, France, which the Nazis had been using as a base.

Unfortunately, the people of WhoCares were very religious, and they had a big church with a big tower and with a very sharp-eyed sniper, who'd had us pinned in the snow-covered woods for the last ten minutes or so.

Once they fire stopped, I poked a hand out and flipped off the sniper.

Spider-Sense gave me half a second of warning to pull my hand back before a bullet tore through where it had just been.

"Sharp eyes on this kraut fuck, I'll give him that," Captain Wolf grumbled, and I chuckled. "Any ideas, sir?"

I didn't have an official rank as much as I had a general air of 'do what I say' about me.

Other knows why, I never have any idea of what I'm doing.

I pulled up my mask to drink a little from my water canteen. I offered it to Wolf, who shook his head.

I said, "Wait here, until the corpse lands, then go for the town."

"What corpse?" O'Hara asked.

"You'll know."

With that, I pulled down my mask, grabbed my revolver, and ran out of cover.

Spidey-Sense gave me a bit of warning about the sniper, so I could jump out of the way before a shot hit me.

I reached down on one of those jumped, grabbed a bunch of snow, and held my revolver between my teeth as I made a snow ball, never stopping in my approach.

My enhanced senses could pick up on some people screaming in German, and soon soldiers were trying to shoot me, but I dodged those bullets too.

I threw the snowball as hard as I could at the sniper, and I saw it hit him in the face. I took advantage of the opening and jumped as hard as I could, landing on a roof. From there, I jumped from roof to roof, not even looking as I dodged away from the bullets of the soldiers that tried to chase me.

I spat out the revolver onto my hand, and I started running up the side of the church.

The sniper, to his credit, didn't even hesitate, he just aimed down with his rifle and show down, but I kept dodging.

I shot a web to his rifle, pulled it out of his hands, and shot at him.

He dove inside for cover, but with some Web Lines, I was up in his nest as he tried to pull out a pistol for short-range shooting. I pulled that from his hand as well, and I aimed my revolver at his head.

" _You did your best,_ " I said, in my shitty German.

"Go fuck a dog," he replied in equally shitty English.

I shrugged, and I shot him.

It wasn't my first kill. It was my nineteenth, and I barely felt like throwing up or keeping count any more.

I grabbed the sniper's corpse, closed his eyes, webbed his rifle to him, and threw him as hard as I could from his own nest and into the woods I'd just left.

Then, I jumped from the church and went to support my squad.

* * *

 _Spider-Man was a scary son of a bitch. Captain James Wolf knew this as a fact of life._

 _The first time he met the man, in that goofy mask and with a white spider painted over his heart, he'd almost thought it was some kind of joke._

 _This clown? He had to take orders from_ this _clown?_

 _And then, he saw Spider-Man catch a grenade mid-air and toss it back before they could even process that they were under attack._

 _Then, he saw Spider-Man ran up at a sniper and throw him back at his squad so they knew to enter the town._

 _Then, he saw Spider-Man punch an enemy soldier so hard his head exploded._

 _After freeing the town, the locals threw a party. As far as parties went, it was very subdued. Someone played a violin, someone handed out some shitty French beer, and everyone tried to believe their problems were done now that the krauts were gone._

 _Well, every local did, at least._

 _O'Hara was dancing with Goldstein, making some of the local women laugh, Samson, Brook and DeWitt were showing some local kids how to play poker, even though none of them spoke a lick of French, and Spider-Man..._

 _Wolf raised an eyebrow._

 _Spider-Man was sitting with his back to the church wall, holding a glass of beer, around five feet above the ground._

 _The masked soldier wasn't drinking, but his mask was pulled up to the nose. Wolf thought he could see him whispering something, his lips barely moving._

 _James could also see there were three local girls, barely out of their teens if he was any judge, whispering amongst themselves and giving them looks._

 _Ah, hell. Comand had told him not to let him seem_ too _scary, even if he was. Maybe he should do something?_

 _Grabbing his own glass of shitty french beer, he approached the Spider._

 _"Not one for parties?" he asked._

 _James was amused when he saw him stat, and sheepishly slide down the wall. For someone that could feel a bullet coming before the other guy pulled the trigger, he wasn't very aware of his surroundings._

 _"Not really," he admitted. "I was just, um, apologizing."_

 _The trio was obviously listening in, with one of them whispering translations to the other two._

 _"For what? To whom?"_

 _"For killing, and to God, I suppose?" the Spider took a sip of shitty beer and winced. "It's funny, I never prayed until I came here."_

 _"No atheists in a foxhole," James quoted. Something his old Captain'd told him. "Kinda weird to apologize for killing krauts, though."_

 _"Oh, they definitely deserved it," the Spider admitted. "But murder's murder, no matter who or why. I don't think I'll go to Hell for killing nazis, but I'm not going to celebrate it."_

 _That seemed fair enough to James. He never liked working with soldiers that cheered and cherished every kill. There was something off about those people._

 _The kind that joined the army not because it was right, but because it was a way to get away with killing as many people as possible._

 _One of the girls took a deep breath, and almost ran forward, until she was in front of them. "Sir?"_

 _Spider-Man said some French gibberish, and the girl smiled with relief, before saying some more French stuff. She handed the Spider something, and he said, "Mercy."_

 _Why was he asking for mercy?_

 _The girl blushed prettily, and marched off, looking like she was walking on air._

 _"What was that about? Why'd you ask for mercy?" James asked._

 _"I said 'merci', it means thanks in French," the Spider said, smiling. Bah, not like French was a real language. "And she wanted to give me something she spent the whole day making."_

 _He showed James what the girl gave him. A pendant, with a white wooden spider hanging from it._

 _"Huh," James took a sip of his shitty beer. "Nice of her."_

 _"Yup," the Spider put on the pendant. "Don't quote me on this, but I think she might be slightly infanuated with me."_

 _James snorted. "What tipped you off? The blush or the gifts?"_

 _The Spider laughed and drank his beer, wincing at the taste._

 _"Frenchmen," James sighed. "Can't brew beer for shit."_

 _"All beer tastes like piss smells to me," the Spider admitted. "Just felt awkward being the only one not drinking."_

 _That just wasn't right._

 _"When we go back home for leave, I'm taking you drinking," James decided. "Not right for a man to fight for freedom without having tried good beer."_

 _"Is that so?" the Spider asked, obviously amused. "Fair enough. I'll take you up on that."_

 _James decided that maybe, just maybe, Spider- No, Fletcher- wasn't that bad a guy._

 _Jake, that already liked the Captain, decided to actually put in an effort when they went drinking._

 _Captain James Wolf caught a bullet between the eyes on the next town they visited._

* * *

Shore leave was a bittersweet thing.

The squad all went home. I went to see a man about a drug.

"Super Solider Serum, huh?" I chuckled. "Bit of a mouthful."

I was walking beside Doctor Erskine through the training camp, overseeing the soldiers-to-be.

I was wearing most of my regular uniform, except the mask. My coat was open in such a way that the spider symbol was hidden, but easily accessible if I wanted to make a dramatic revealt.

Under my coat, a simple waistcoat-shirt-tie combo. Also, black gloves. Even spider powers can't protect you from bruised knuckles.

"So, how long until the serum's ready?"

"Not too long," Eskrine said. "Just needs some more testing."

"And how exactly is it being tested?"

"... at a great cost," the doctor admitted.

"Hm," I knew what he meant.

I still remembered some things about the comics. The serum wasn't great at a start, a lot of people of color were sacrificed for it.

"I expect," I slowly said. "That after all this is over, some uncomfortable truths about what had to be done for the war to be won came to air.

"More than that; I expect that anyone involved with that great cost knows that keeping things quiet will come at an even greater cost."

I gave Eskrine a _look_ , and the man shuddered. "Right?"

"Yes! Yes, of course."

"Good man," I patted his back, and approached a group of recruits doing jumping jacks.

A group that had a skinny kid that was already panting for breath.

"Sir!" the Drill Sergant saluted me, and I returned the gesture. Every official knew who I was, but I'd asked them to keep it quiet.

"These your recruits, huh?" They'd stopped jumping to look at me, except for Rogers. "Not a single pretty face among the ladies, I see."

I could tell a few already didn't like me, but Rogers didn't even acknowledge me. He just kept excersicing, until he finished his set, and he fell on his ass, red-faced and panting for breath.

The Drill Sergeant almost started shouting at him, but I stopped him with a gesture.

"You're out of breath, maggot?" he didn't look at me. "Tired, perhaps? Would you like a cool glass of lemonade and a parasol? We understand if your puny behind needs a break."

He still didn't look at me, he just tried to get to his feet.

"You are, without a doubt, the single most pathetic weakling I've ever had the disgrace of laying eyes on." I spat. "Do us all a favor, get your shit, and leave, maggot!"

He climbed to his feet, tilted his head up to look me in the eyes, and stared me down.

' _Oh,_ _hell,_ ' I thought, as a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. ' _I already like this one._ '

"What's your name, princess?"

"Steve Rogers, sir!"

"Hm," I smiled, before I pulled off my coat. "Sergeant, do you mind?"

"Not at all, sir!" he said, taking it from my hands with a bit of reverence.

I rolled up my sleeves, and I gestured with my head for the soldiers to follow.

"We're going to have a little test!" I shouted at them. "You're all going to work together to hit me, and I'm going to hit you until stay down. One hit on me, and this stops. You all get extra rations and an extra thirty minutes of sleep. Doesn't that sound good?"

From the fire burning behind their eyes, it clearly did. Even Rogers looked extra motivated.

I adjusted my gloves and I smiled. "Whenever you feel like it."

Of course, I took each one with a single hit to the stomach before they could even come close to hitting me.

They all rushed me like idiots. Then I took down five in a second, and they started trying to coordinate.

The only one that stayed back, and thus the only one still concious, was Rogers.

"What are you waiting for, maggot?"

"Nothing," he replied, and rushed me. Surprisingly, he almost dodged when I punched him in the face.

"Good for you," I smiled, and started walking away. Then I stopped and look back to see Rogers, a bruise already forming over his eye, getting up and getting in a boxing position. "Oh?"

"I could do this all day."

I barked out a laugh. "I don't doubt it."

It took twenty seven more hits until he was too fucked up to get back on his feet, and he still tried to grab my ankle when I walked away.

I unrolled my sleeves, took the coat from the Sergeant with a grateful nod, and put it on.

I turned around, saw Rogers struggling to keep his chin up, and smiled down him. "Yeah, you definitely got what it takes."

He frowned with confusion, and I chuckled.

I showed him the spider symbol, saw his unbruised eye widen, and then he passed out.

I walked back to Eskrine, "I like him. He's your Super Soldier."

"I knew you would." We walked together some more, and when we were about to enter the base, he asked me, "You took it easy on him, right?"

"Are you nuts? I hit him harder than everyone else!"

* * *

 _Steve was very, very nervous._

 _For one, he was shirtless in front of Ms. Carter. He knew he wasn't much to look at, so there was a bit of embarrasment there too._

 _Plus, there were all this important people looking down at him. He was just a kid from Brooklyn, how did he end up in this situation?_

 _He hissed a little when the metal bars tightened over one of the bruises that hadn't healed yet from his encounter with the Spider-Man._

The _Spider-Man! Steve still had trouble believing he'd met the legendary soldier.  
_

 _Granted, if he had had any say on the matter, he would have preffered it involved less beatings, but then the Spider had told him he had what it takes!_

 _Had he meant the Super Soldier program? Did he know about it?_

 _The capsule closed around Steve, and soon the questions were ignored in favor of the all-consuming_ **pain** _._

 _When it opened, everything felt better defined. When he inhaled, it felt like he was breathing for the first time in his life._

 _He barely realized someone asked how he felt._

 _"Taller," he said, and immidiately felt stupid about it._

 _He looked down at himself._

 _He never had muscles before._

 _He kinda liked it._

 _He looked up, to see Doctor Eskrine smilling down on him. He smiled back._

 _Steve's newly-sharpened senses caught sight of the man pulling a weapon behind the good doctor with a determined expression. He tried to shout a warning, but he knew it'd be too-_

 _A single grey line, coming from somewhere on the ceiling, caught the assassin's wrist and pulled the weapon away from the doctor. The shot rang loudly, almost deafening, but it only hit concrete._

 _"Naughty," a familiar voice chided, pulling the assassin into the celing. Soon, blood curling screams rang through the room. Steve turned around and saw the Spider-Man standing on the ceiling, his hand on the assassin's mouth. The assassin's hands clawed at the Spider's arm, but eventually the superhuman wrapped the assassin in webs and left him hanging upside down and bleeding from the mouth._

 _"Was that truly necessary?" Eskrine sighed.  
_

 _"Oh, I'm_ sorry _," the Spider-Man crushed the teeth in his hand, and opened it to show white foam emerging from one of them. "Next time I stop an assassin gunning for you, how about I take the time to take off my gloves and feel around the inside of his mouth so I can tell which molar has a cyanide capsule?"  
_

 _Eskrine looked at him for a moment, before nodding. "Fair enough."_

 _The Spider took off his gloves, even the one that wasn't dirty, pulled another pair from his coat, and fixed them on before stretching a hand to Rogers. "Welcome to the army, Rogers. Hope you do well."_

 _Steve had mixed feelings about the Spider-Man._

* * *

"... and if I find out you're wasting him on shows for morale, I'll take your spine!" I said, as I bid General Whatever goodbye.

It took the plane a while, but eventually, it left me on some snowy Canadian mountains.

I'd asked Eskrine to keep an ear out for extraordinary people like while I fought, and he mentioned rumours of an immortal man in Canada. Naturally, I came to investigate.

And now I was at the entrance of the cave, with a furlined version of my classic coat.

"That ain't no man up there," a man from a nearby town had told me. He'd been the only one to meet the immortal and survive, but not without three scars that ran across his chest. "That's a beast."

"Maybe," I'd replied. "But at the moment we're in need of beasts."

I walked through the cave, revolver in hand. I could hear growling and chewing from further in.

The sunlight reflected from snow outside shone in, and let me see James Howlett, eating raw chunks out of a dead animal in all his naked, blood-covered glory.

I whistled. "Damn. Waste not, want not, huh?"

He turned and snarled at me. He must've known I was coming, from smell, but didn't think I'd have the balls to talk to him.

"Nice to meet you," I said cheerily. "Folks call me Spider-Man. You are?"

He snarled and jumped for me, bone claws emerging from between his fingers.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

One bullet in each shoulder and one in the middle of his chest.

James falls backwards, bleeding profusely. I watch as the bullets pop out of his chest, and he starts breathing again.

"Hm, it really is you."

Having confirmed that, I smash his head into a wall, cover him in webs, and walk back into the town.

* * *

He comes to as I sit him down in front of me in a bar, webs redone so he's bound together with only one hand free.

"Two pints of your finest beer, please," I tell the bartender, with my mask pulled up and my mouth set in a charming smile. "So, Mister Immortal. I believe we got off in the wrong foot."

He growled at me.

"I know you understand me, so please cut that out."

He stops growling, but keeps glaring as two beers are shakily set between us.

I take a sip out of mine, and wince. "I can never find a beer that I like, but I keep trying."

James is already halfway down his, head tilted back.

"Not a problem for you, I see."

He finishes it, drops it on the table, burps loudly, and goes back to glaring at me. "What do you want?"

I smiled brightly. "Ah! Quite simple. I want to ask for your help in killing nazis."

"What's that?"

"Germans. They're trying to take over the world, along some other countries, and the rest of the world took exception to that. I want you to join me and someone else in a special team designed to kick the crap out of them."

"Sounds fun. What do I get out of it?"

"Money, booze, cigars, and probably sex if you find someone that doesn't mind the whole 'surly savage' look you've got going on."

He thinks it over.

"Sure."

"Great! Want me to cut you free?"

He pulls out his claws and does it himself.

"Fair enough," I signal the bartender. "Another round for my friend, and maybe some pants."

"Why pants?" James asks.

"... You're naked, man."

"What?!"

* * *

 _James was getting used to his name._

 _The Spider had given it to him, when he admitted he couldn't remember his own. It wasn't a bad name, but it could be better._

 _Spider joked that he could always adopt James, so he'd be James Fletcher. James didn't think that sounded so bad._

 _"Open fire!" Rogers roared, and their squad immediately followed his order._

 _The Howling Comandos. That's what they were calling them, according to Rogers._

 _The Howling Comandos, led by Captain America, The Spectacular Spider-Man and the Wolverine._

 _That's another name he was getting used to. The Wolverine._

 _Right now, they were assaulting a stronghold of Hitler's where he'd been experimenting with vampires, of all things._

 _It'd started raining two hours ago._

 _The vampires came out one hour ago._

 _They'd caught them unaware, as they infiltrated the underground laboratory. Suddenly, undead monsters were bursting out of the walls, trying to kill them._

 _It's only because of Spider-Man's Spidey Sense that they survived. The man burst into action, pulling one of the stakes he'd filled his pocket with before the mission and running it through every undead heart within reach._

 _They'd spent the last hour fighting for their lives, climbing out of the lab, killing every monster on the way, undead or not._

 _"There's no such thing as vampires, Jake," Spider-Man muttered, in a mocking copy of Rogers' voice. "We don't need neck armor."_

 _"I GET IT!" Rogers shouted, slamming his shield into the head of a nazi. "Next time, we'll listen to you!"_

 _"GOOD!" that statement was puncutated by a vampire getting kicked through a wall, into another vampire, and a stake being thrown hard enough it pierced both their hearts._

 _James didn't say anything, he just kept fighting. Maybe a few roars here and there._

 _"See, James agrees with me," Spider-Man muttered, smashing his fist through a vampire's head when it tried to bite him._

 _Eventually, they made it out of the laboratory, and started running for the woods. By then, Spider-Man had used up all his stakes, and even Rogers looked winded._

 _"We need to destroy all the vampires!" Rogers shouted._

 _"I know! I have a plan!" the Spider shouted back. "Everyone follow me and gather around!"_

 _They did so, and they waited with bated breath as the rain washed down on them._

 _"Other, mother of all Spiders, hear my prayer," Spider-Man whispered, clutching his spider-shaped pendant._

 _"This isn't the time for prayer, Spider-Man!" Rogers shouted._

 _"Oh, I beg to differ." A greasy voice said._

 _James was really tired of all the people that could sneak past his senses._

 _A man, wearing a long black coat, approached, smirking smugly. "You've fought valiantly, but it was for naught. While many of my children have been destroyed, it is only a matter of time before we recuperate their numbers, and soon the world will fall under the glorious German rule!"_

 _Spider-Man kept praying._

 _"You will join my children, and then- AHHHHHHH!"_

 _The vampires, which were surrounding the Howling Comandos, all burst into flames._

 _Spider-Man, that had his hands in a spider shape, curled them into fists with both middle fingers extended. "Amen, and fuck you."_

 _"What did you do?"_

 _"I asked my pal Spider Jesus to bless the water the storm clouds are made of," Spider-Man laughed, as the vampires burned. The one that had been speaking wasn't on fire, but it looked like he was being melted with acid._

 _"You think this is enough to stop me?! I AM DRA-"_

 _Spider-Man picked up a tree and threw it at him, smashing him into another one._

 _"A bit oversized, but I think it works as a stake."_

 _James couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. The Comandos soon joined him._

* * *

I smiled at the picture hanging from my wall. It showed me without my mask, arms wrapped around Rogers (who looked dazed and had a spot of red lipstick on his cheek from Peggy Carter) and James (who was smiling with a cigar on his mouth and his face covered in red spots of lipstick from the many women he'd wooed that night). I was smiling so hard my eyes closed, and it was obvious I'd dragged them to get their picture.

I think that picture was taken three weeks after I killed Dracula? Or was it after the giant robot with the big laser?

"Ah," I sighed. "Simpler times."

I was an old man, now. Spider powers hadn't abandoned me, so I looked better than most 95-year-old men, but I was still old, and a life-time of fighting had left me using a cane.

Granted, that was mostly so I could surprise people when I used it as a weapon and walked perfectly without it.

The look on Peter's face, that first day of his training, had been worth the years of carrying it around. Ben and I still laugh about it from time to time.

A knock rang out, and I opened the door to see an old friend, staring at me with a hanging jaw. He probably expected me to look just like he remembered it, since James said he visited him first.

"Rogers, you little shit," I laughed. "What took you so long?"

(Eventually, we sat down, and talked about the good old days. About adjusting to home after the war. But that's a story for another time.)


	19. On The Road Again, For The First Time

**Chapter #16: On The Road Again, For The First Time  
**

* * *

Naturally, I jumped in to help. Who do you take me for?

Within seconds I had five mooks webbed to different surfaces and knocked out. The others were bleeding on the ground from cuts made by the girl (Laura? Probably Laura). I could tell she made sure to keep it non-lethal, so I just nodded at her.

"Hey there! Name's Spider-Man, who're you?"

She ran at me and tried to skewer my face with her claws.

As I dodged, I looked her over.

She seemed- _horizontal swipe for my leg, jump_ -similar to the version of her from Logan- _stab for my heart, two steps to the right and lean_ -with her hair wild and- _lean back to avoid the jumping swipe for my throat_ -unkept.

I caught her wrist. "Could you stop trying to kill me? I'm not with these guys, and it's really hard to build a description in my head with how you're interrupting."

She snarled at me and tried to kick me, but I gave a little skip back.

"Not a talker, huh?"

She snarled some more. I let her go.

She jumped back and remained in a ready battle position. I raised my hands, to show I wasn't going to hurt her.

She approached cautiously, claws first. She poked me, not enough to cut my suit.

"Um," she startled a little at the sound, before giving me an inquisitive look. "Would you feel better if you took my escrima sticks?"

She looked at the sticks in question, and took them for herself, before tearing them appart with her claws.

"Matt was right, buying in bulk _is_ the right call." I muttered.

Probably-Laura poked me again, before huffing and turning around.

"Would you like me to help you out?" I asked, making her stop her retreat. "I know a place where the people that hurt you couldn't get to you."

I memorized the best way to get to the Xavier Mansion a long time ago.

She seems interested, and approaches me.

"If you wait a second, I can make a call, get a transport through some friends, and we can get you to a safe location." I shrug. "I figure that's bound to be better than whatever you're cooking at the moment."

She doesn't say anything, but nods slowly.

"Cool beans," I slowly lower my hands and pull out a phone. I call Natasha. "Hey, Nat? I found someone's lab rat-no offense, kid- and I'm about 90% sure she's a mutant. Can you send me a car or something to get her to Xavier's?"

Natasha doesn't answer for a while, before a five-second sight comes over the phone. "Why can't you call for social reasons?"

"Because you have no life outside of super-spy stuff?"

"Fair enough." I heard some tapping through the phone. "Quinjet headed your way. ETA around ten minutes."

"Thanks Nat, love you lots." I hung up and smiled at her. "Wanna sit here while we wait?"

She didn't respond, but I sat down. Eventually, she sat down too.

"So, know any good-"

[ _Wheels on pavement, full speed._ ]

I jumped to my feet and looked down the way I heard the truck. Probably-Laura starts, but then she sniffs in the direction I'm looking and growls.

"Kid!" she snaps to look at me. I point at an alley. "Go over there and hide. I'll take care of it."

She hesitates, before nodding and pulling back her claws. She runs over.

The truck stops in front of me. The same logo that's in the mooks' armor is on the side.

The back opens and four people exit the truck.

A man wearing a skull mask and a white cloak. Taskmaster, capable of copying any moveset he sees.

A woman wearing a red bandana with two sai strapped to her hips. Elektra, _the_ kunoichi.

A white-haired girl, with two pistols strapped to her tights. Probably Silver Sable, mercenary badass extraordinaire.

(And love interest of Spider-Man, a treacharous part of my brain whispered.)

And the last one was...

Oh god, not him.

"Hey! That's Spider-Man." Deadpool said. "Hi Spidey! I'm Deadpool! I'm a huge fan!"

Oh, just shoot me while you're at it, why don't you?

I ignore him and turn to look at the white-haired girl. "I take it you're this motley crew's leader?"

She blinked, surprised. "Most men tend to assume Taskmaster is."

"Not a man," I muttered, before picking up my volume again. "Well, this seemed like an unlikely crew, so I assumed a seemingly-unlikely leader. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm known as Silver Sable," she doesn't look much like the comics. She's got the skin-tight bodysuit, sure, but her hair is shoulder-length and straight, there's no silver bandana-thingie, and she's younger. My age, perhaps? "We are looking for a lost experiment."

"A lost experiment?" it took all of the discipline Natasha beat into me to not show how I felt about that terminology. "Yours?"

"No, our client's," Elektra said, sounding disinterested. "A weapon shaped like a girl."

"Oh, _that_ experiment!" I pointed down the opposite way from the alley. "Yeah, she went over there."

"And you let her?" Taskmaster asked. "I thought you were a hero. And I can't help but notice the knocked-out mooks around you."

Oof, I forgot about them.

"Look, I have a very punch-clock attitude about heroing," I shrugged. "I thought the mooks at my feet were kidnapping an innocent mutant, then she tried to stab me, so I let her go. I'd offer to pay for how I hurt them, but I'm not made of money, so you'll have to live with a heart-felt ' _my bad_ '."

They didn't seem impressed. Elektra picked up the thread, "Why are you still here?"

"I notice that these guys are wearing a uniform. I figured the company would come looking for them. Now, are you going to look for your experiment and leave my city, or do I have to kick you out?"

"Hm, you tell lies with grace befitting a spy," Sable said, "But you didn't account for one thing. We put a tracker on the experiment."

She pulled up a sleek device, and while she looked at the screen, I shot a Web Line at Elektra, pulled her to me, and punched her into the ground, knocking her out when her head hit the ground.

"Fine," I said, running at Sable, who'd already dropped the device and was unholstering both pistols. "We'll do this the hard way."

I jumped and tried to kick her in the face, but she rolled under me and shot up. I pulled away with a Web Line, but Deadpool was already there, katanas in hand, trying to cut off my head.

"If you keep this up, you're not getting an autograph," I said, dodging his swipes.

"I'll live," he said carelessly, before adopting a dangerous tone. " _But you won't._ "

I hit him with an uppercut so hard it broke his jaw and he flew off a few dozen meters.

"Just to check," I turned around and dodged some more gunfire from Sable. "That guy heals, right?"

"Yeah," I turned around and-SHIT!

I spend the next few moments in a panic, dodging swipes from Taskmaster's sword, until it catches me in the upper arm. I hiss and jump back, right into Sable's line of fire, where I have to dodge again.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-double fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck," I mutter, jumping and rolling and spinning and webbing away from every shot and attack. Taskmaster tries to get in close range again a few more times, but I jump away from him and shoot webs, which he dodges flawlessly. "Dammit, where's that quinjet?"

I ducked just in time to dodge Deadpool's triumphant return, having teleported behind me.

"You're a jerk!" he shouted, stabbing at me.

As a reply, I catch one of his swords, snap it in half, and stick the removed part into his throat.

"So, seriously, he can heal from this?" I asked.

"Yeah, no worries," Taskmaster said, again running for me, dodging away from the webs I shot his way. "But you've got bigger concerns than- GAH FUCK!"

That last part was because of Almost-Definitely-Laura jumping out of the alley he was passing by and drop-kicking him in the side.

"Kid! I told you to stay hidden!" I shout, even as I turn around and fire webs at Sable, who dodges and returns fire. I hear the girl huff and that distinctive sound of Adamantium claws coming out of their sheaths.

She rushed forward and tried to attack Taskmaster, but he wasn't surprised again. He dodged away from the claws and struck with his sword at the soft spots, avoiding her adamantium skeleton.

...

I won't get into details, but if there's one thing that pisses me off beyond anything else, it's assholes that think they can get away with hurting kids.

"HEY, FUCK-SKULL!" Taskmaster barely had a second to look at me before my fist slammed into his head.

The trick to fighting someone that picks up every single fighting style he sees is to keep punching them until they go down, without a second to react.

Again and again, I hit him. Sometimes I jumped back to dodge a shot Sable felt safe making in between dodging Laura, who'd moved on to attack her, but I never had more than half a second between hits.

A punch to the side of the head, an uppercut to his stomach, a headbutt, a kick to the side, a punch to the jaw, a kick to the crotch, a kick to the chest, and finally, a kick to the face, slamming Taskmaster into a wall, where he slumped, completely K.O.'d.

Then I turned to look at Laura, Sable and Deadpool. I could tell Laura was scared, and that neither Deadpool nor Sable looked forward to fighting me.

The first to recover was Sable, and that's why everything went wrong.

She tapped a device to the side of the kid's neck, and I could see electricity discharging against her.

Ever since my first run-in against Electro, I was a little flinchy around electricity. Still, I charged forward, where Deadpool met me with both guns out and the chunk of katana still sticking out of his throat.

He shot at me, I dodged, and tried to punch him in the face, but he dodged and kicked me in the chest, actually making me take a step back.

"Huh, I actually got a hit in on you," he aimed a gun at my face, and was about to say something else, but I grabbed the gun, stuck it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger, before grabbing him by the neck and throwing him at Sable, who punched him aside.

"You're seriously going to kidnap a kid?" I growled, still a bit out of breath from Deadpool's kick. Fucker hits hard.

"It's nothing personal," Sable replied, pulling some round device thing-a-majig and tapping it, making it glow a soft blue. "It's just business."

At that moment, I learned something about myself.

I already knew, from the moment I decided to become Spider-Man, that I would hate villains that try to make things personal.

But seeing someone kidnap a kid that did nothing but try and defend herself?

"Bitch, I'll make this personal," I growled.

A ball of blue energy emerged from the orb, but I didn't hesitate to jump into it.

And then the world _snapped_ -

* * *

-And suddenly we were in a metal room.

My thought process was basically:

' _We got teleported? SHIT! Whatever, I can deal with that later._ '

And then I knocked out Sable with one punch.

C'mon, she's basic human, and I'm Spider-Man.

I grabbed Laura, and looked around. The room was empty, but there was a door that was opening, and a man with brown hair, combed to the left, entered, holding a spray bottle. I immidiately webbed that shit up, stuck to webs to his chest, and dragged him over to knock him out with a punch.

I rushed out of the room, and came across a dozen guards, all wearing the same uniform as the other mooks.

"Fine," I spat. "Let's do this!"

Something happens, when you fight a lot. Eventually, it becomes a daze, and you kinda disconnect. Your body does what you trained it to do, but you're just moving forward, slamming everything in your way against the nearest wall.

The world's a blur, and you just march on forward until you're where you want to be.

Case in point, I smashed a door open and we found ourselves in...

... some snowy fucking woods.

"... Motherfucker, if I find out I'm in Alaska, I'm going to tear somebody a new asshole."

* * *

It took some running, which meant my feet were all wet, but I found a town.

Probably-Laura was still asleep, not that I did anything to wake her up, but she woke up just as we were breaking into a clothing store, with me having webbed the cameras first.

She almost screamed, but I quickly covered her mouth.

"I'm helping you escape from... whatever that place is. I need you to stay calm and not stab me. Okay?"

She nodded, and pulled the claws away from my throat, where she'd almost gutted me like a fish.

I uncovered her mouth, left her on her feet, and quickly ran around the store.

I was tall even in my previous life, and now that I had spider powers and lots of training, I was somewhere around 6'2'', so the clothes I eventually settled on wasn't perfect, but it fit enough.

I eyeballed Probably-Laura's size, handed her some clothes, and told her to get changed in, well, the changing room, while I waited outside.

According to my phone, we weren't in Alaska. Those were the good news.

The bad news were that we were stuck in Oregon.

"Fuck me and my entire lineage," I grumbled.

My phone started ringing, and I saw it was Natasha.

I answered, "Before you ask, we got teleported."

"Of course you did," she sighed. "Spider-Man, the mercenary organization involved is Sable International."

"Really? I didn't read that on the side of their big-ass armored truck."

"Quit being a smartass," she chided me. "This is serious, that company is run by the single toughest teenager that side of you."

"She sounds charming. Is she single? I could use a palate-cleanser."

"Jake, she has diplomatic immunity. The kind that makes her virtually untouchable."

Ah, comic-book diplomatic immunity. The perfect excuse not to get a serious team with the public eye on it, like the Avengers, involved. I see you, universe. I got your number.

"Well, that's fine. We'll make our own way there," I sighed. "How's everything around there?"

"Fury's mad I took a quinjet to do you a favor. Elektra and Taskmaster are mad that we're holding them in containment for as long as we can and that you knocked them out. Good job on that, by the way. I'm very proud."

Something in me got fluttery when she told me I did a good job. The 'notice-me-spider-sempai' instinct, if you will. "No biggie. Taskmaster gave me trouble, though."

"He does that," Natasha said. "Do you have a plan?"

No.

"Yeah, I got this shit on lock."

"Good. I'll trust you on that."

We exchanged a few more pleasantries and then we stopped calling. She adviced me to keep my phone turned off for the rest of the trip, in case Sable International hacked it. I did so, after taking out a marker I kept on my utility belt and noting down the Parker home number and some directions on my arm.

Laura came out of the dressing room, all bundled-up. "'m done."

"Okay, wait here while I change, okay sweetie?"

She nodded, and I did as such.

After that, we snuck out of the room, and she kept watch while I broke into and hotwired a car.

"Let me tell you," I told her, as we drove off. "There's nothing quite like training from two experienced heroes, one of them a spy. You learn a lot of useful stuff on this line of work."

She didn't answer.

"... right," I cleared my throat. "So! What's your name?"

"... Laura."

"Cool! I'm Jake." I'd taken off my mask and utility belt, and hid them under the back seats. "Jake Fletcher, in case you'd like to know my surname too."

She didn't answer.

I grabbed a disk from the dashboard and put it in without looking to see what it was..

"Oh, sweet!" I smiled, as Queen's awesome music started filling the room. "I love this song!"

I hummed and nodded along, as ' _Bohemian Rhapsody_ ' rang out. It was probably a greatest hits album, or something the car owner made themselves.

Laura seemed a little weirded out at first, but eventually she started copying me and nodded along to the song.

"Hey," I pointed at the speakers at both sides of the dashboard. "If you pay attention, you can tell that some of the song is made to come from the right speaker, and some of it from the left."

Laura's brow furrowed, and she leaned in to listen more closely, before her eyes widened when she heard it and she turned to look at me.

"Cool, right? That's one of the things that set Queen -that's the band- apart." I smiled with bittersweet nostalgia.

It had been a long time since I was in my old life, but some little things reminded me of it.

I spent a lot of time, sitting in the front with my dad driving us through the snow and him telling me cool stuff about bands we liked.

He always felt eternal.

I sure missed him.

"Are you okay?" I looked at Laura out of the corner of my eye, and I realized my expression was probably wistful or some shit.

"Oh, yeah," I forced a smile and kept driving, as the snow storm started to pick up. I turned up the heat. "Just some memories."

She nodded with understanding, and she leaned back. Her eyes fluttered close, but she shook her head to stay awake.

"You can sleep if you like," I smiled. "I'll wake you up when we get to a diner."

She nodded, and closed her eyes.

"D'awww," I couldn't help myself. She looked so cute and peaceful.

Until she opened her eyes and glared at me.

"Sorry, I'll be quiet."

She closed her eyes again.

* * *

 _Can anybody find meeeeee~ somebody to love?_

I paused the song, softly shook Laura awake, and we walked into the diner, after pulling some loose money from the glove compartment.

We sat side by side at the counter, with a trucker looking at us weird until we stared him down. Then the burly guy turned back to his meal.

Belatedly, I took off the hat I'd been wearing since the clothing store and combed my hair with a hand distractedly. I glanced at the T.V., which was showing the news.

Some coverage of the fight, apparently a few hours ago. I'd lost track of time on the road.

"Hey, sweetie," I turned and saw a kind-looking woman smiling at me. Clearly a very practiced smile, from lots of time on the service industry. "What can I get you?"

"Oh, yeah," I quickly looked through the menu. "I'll have some coffee, bit of cream and lots of sugar. Laura, anything to drink?"

She pointed at a drawing of orange juice on the kids menu.

"Right, some orange juice for her," I looked at the food. "How are your pies?"

"Best in the state," she said, proud.

"That's what they said at the other generic diner," I joked.

"Yeah, but their secret ingredient is rat poop," she answered easily, and I snorted.

"Fair enough, I'll have some... cherry pie. Laura? You gotta eat something."

She looked at the menu, which I titled towards her, and tapped the apple pie.

"Apple pie for her."

The waitress' smile seemed more genuine now. "Coming right up."

"Oh! Before you leave, our map got kinda ruined. Do you know where I could get a new one?"

Without a word, she reached under the counter and handed me a map.

"Oh. Thanks!"

"No problem, hun." She winked, and sauntered off.

Laura looked at the menu, and saw that there was one of those labyrinth puzzle things. She started looking around for a crayon, and I handed her my marker that I'd moved from the utility belt to my pocket.

Soon enough, Laura was keeping busy with the puzzle, and I was trying to decyphre the road map.

"First time taking a road trip?" the burly trucker guy that was sitting with us asked.

"Pretty much," I said, still looking at the map. "Laura's birthday's coming up, and I wanted to treat her with a trip to the Big Apple."

The guy nodded, and switched to the seat next to mine to help me plan out the route.

Honestly, it was a bit scary how easy manipulating people got after Black Widow's training.

After we planned our trip, Jimbo the Friendly Burly Trucker bid us goodbye, wished Laura a happy birthday, and walked away.

The waitress came with our food and drinks, and she told me she heard what I was doing and what a good big brother I was.

"Wish my brother had been like that when we were young," she huffed.

"So, yesterday?" I said, and she laughed, smacking my hand. "By the way, is there a phone here? Cell's out of batteries."

She gave me some change and I dialed the Parkers on a landline payphone.

The whole place kinda had this outdated charm to it.

After some panicked questions from May, I gave her the quick notes of the situation.

"I'm proud of what you're doing for that girl," she said, as I watched Laura try to inhale her apple pie. Girl was obviously a fan. "But are you sure no one else can do this?"

"Doesn't seem like it," I admitted. "I'll just try to look at it like an intense road trip."

She huffed, but accepted it and said she'd pass the news along.

I hung up, and almost left until I saw what was beside the landline pay phone.

A jukebox. I'd always wanted to use a jukebox.

And then I saw what the sign said.

[Three plays for a dollar.]

"Oh. My. God." I whispered, almost venerating.

I looked through the selection. Tom Jones was there, in all his vaguely-greasy glory.

' _I have to do this,_ ' I thought. ' _This is a sign from the Great Web of Fate to tell me I'm doing the right thing._ '

I put in seven dollars and selected twenty ' _What's New Pussycat?_ 's and one ' _It's Not Unusual_ ' in the eight slot.

So I sat down next to Laura again, and we waited.

 _What's new, pussycat?~_

I smiled as the song kept playing, and then I had to hide my smile behind my coffee when it started ending.

Everyone was weirded out when it played again, but ignored it. By the fifth play, even Laura looked annoyed.

Then, my senses picked up on a vehicle to small to be truck and too big to be a car approaching, about two blocks away.

I asked the waitress for a refill, and instead of drinking, I just ate my pie as fast as possible.

"Laura?" she looked at me. "I'm gonna need you to hide in the bathroom for a sec, okay sweetie?"

She blinked, before realizing why I asked that. She nodded and marched dutifully to the bathroom.

I looked over my shoulder. Five mooks came out of the truck, as well as a Cape, if the skin-tight bodysuit and creepy smile were any indication.

I took a slow sip of my coffee. Damn, it was really good, too.

The mooks entered, and surrounded me, weapons aimed at my head.

The Cape slowly walked, and smiled at me. I looked at her in the reflection of some metal from the kitchen.

"The experiment?" she asked.

"You're never going to lay a hand on her," I told her. "Matter of fact, you're not going to lay a hand on anything if you start this."

"On account of you chopping them off?" she asked, and did _something_ that I barely picked up.

[The floor straining as she became suddenly heavier]

Hm, what could she do that makes her heavier, and presumably tougher, without changing her appearance?

I took a sip of my coffee to buy time, as the answer came to me. Density control, like Kitty Pryde.

"On account of you being dead, actually," I looked at my coffee mournfully. I definitely had to sacrifice it, then. "Density control, right? That's what you just did?"

Her smile dropped. "Wha-?"

' _What's New Pussycat?_ ' faded out.

' _It's Not Unusual_ ' started.

When she opened her mouth, I tossed the coffee over my shoulder, and it landed on her mouth. She choked and fell back as it went down the wrong tube, into her lungs, and I took the opportunity to slam the cup into a mook's face, breaking it. Then I used the chunk I was still holding to cut the lower part of his face before kicking him into a wall, where he slumped, unconscious.

"Okay," I smiled, as the weapons were reaimed, Smile-Lady threw up the coffee on her lungs and the instrumental intro rang out and ended. "Let's see who holds out the longest."

I rush forward, before anyone can pull the trigger, and straight up kick the second mook in the dick so hard his head got stuck on the ceiling.

The third mook pulls a knife, but I catch his wrist and judo-flip him into the ground, where I kick him in the head so hard he's knocked out.

The fourth shoots at me, but I snap my head sideways to dodge the shot and slam a hand to his throat, leaving him to choke.

The fifth throws his weapon on the ground, so I just hit him in the stomach and let him pass out peacefully.

Except for the throwing up. Ew. My bad.

Smile-Lady finally finishes coughing the coffee while I put on my mask. Every other patron had left, and I moved too fast for anyone to really see my face, so my identity was presumably safe. She stands up straight and wipes the coffee from her chin. "You think you're clever?"

"Rarely," I smiled under my mask. "So, density control, that's nifty. Does it protect your inner organs too?"

"Yes," she hisses.

"Heartrate says otherwise," I smiled even wider. "It's not nice to lie, smiles."

She lunged for me, and I punched her in the head three times as I moved away, adopting a boxer's stance.

"You've got a good power, I'll give you that." I said, making some footwork. "But even the toughest helmets can't keep you from getting concussed if you're punched in the face enough times. Ask the NAFL."

She growled and tried to hit me again. She moved like an amateur, and I had to laugh. Thugs that got powers never bothered to train to cover other bases.

And really, that's the thing about Spider-Man.

Individual villains can be stronger, tougher, faster, smarter or flat-out more powerful. But Spider-Man is a jack of all trades.

Invulnerable and enough strenght to punch a tank into orbit? Good luck hitting me.

Every attack she made, I just dodged out of the way, and no matter how much she tried to defend herself, I kept dancing around her attacks and through her defense, punching and punching and punching.

My knuckles hurt like hell, but I kept going, used to the feeling.

"ENOUGH!" she screamed. "You can't stop me from getting Laura back!"

"Huh, I'm surprised you acknowledge her name," I admitted. "But I'm not going to do that unless you give me a good reason."

"A good reason? She's mine! She is mine to play with, and hurt, and break!" Spittle flew out of her mouth. "MINE! Do you hear me?! MINE, MINE, MINE! ALL-"

I didn't let her finish. I just grabbed her by the throat and tossed her through a wall into the kitchen.

Density control meant she was extremely heavy. I didn't care, I picked her up with one hand and tossed her like garbage.

I ran in, and checked out the sink. It was one of those big metal ones made to put in a lot of dishes at once. Lucky me, it was empty. I set it to be filled while the bitch stood up.

"Who in the _hell_ do you think you are?" she snarled.

"I'm Laura's guardian," I growled, lifting her up by the back of the neck with her facing away, and held both her hands behind her back. "And you will _never touch her again_."

I held her with her head in the sink as it slowly filled with water. She tried to hold her breath, but my grip on her throat tightened and she opened her mouth, letting the water in. Bubbles came up as the sink overflowed and spilled to the ground.

It was a while, with the cunt still alive and conscious, but fading, that I realized Laura was looking at me.

I looked at her out of the corner of my eyes.

From her expression, I could tell Laura recognized her abuser.

And then I realized, this moment would shape everyone involved.

Laura was seeing me, the man that crashed into her life and started looking after her, killling her abuser, the woman that did God-knows-what to her. If I actually killed her, what would she become?

What would _I_ become?

The Avengers wouldn't be _that_ mad at me for killing someone that tortures kids. They'd force me to register, but that wasn't a big deal compared to everything else. I highly doubt Laura would mind either, beyond some expected emotional shock.

But Spider-Man doesn't kill.

I waited until the bitch was completely knocked out and released her. She coughed up water but, stayed passed out.

I took off my mask. "Let's go, Laura."

She nods.

We walk to the car, I take the map on the way out and leave some money to pay for the pies, juice and coffee, we sit down. I turn off the music before it gets two notes in.

We drive for a while.

"You should have killed her," Laura tells me, eventually. The snow storm is raging quietly. I always liked thunderstorms more than snowstorms.

For a while, I don't answer. Eventually, I admit, "I thought about it."

"Why didn't you do it?" she demands, her voice rising. "Why didn't you kill her?!"

"... I know she hurt you, Laura-"

"You don't know anything!" she cried. "You don't know what it's like!"

"I don't," I admitted. "And I'm sorry, Laura."

She looked like she wanted to stick her claws in my head, but stopped when she saw the tears streaming down my face.

"I'm so, so sorry." I said. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner."

I wiped my tears. Visibility was bad enough without me crying like an idiot.

"... Why didn't you do it?" she asked again, calmer this time.

"Do you know what that mask I was wearing means?" she shook her head. "It's what I wear to be a hero. I wear it so I can't get in trouble for executing vigilante justice, and so the people I fight can't tell that I'm scared.

"When I wear that, I'm not Jake. I'm Spider-Man. And being Spider-Man means that I have to be... _better_."

Laura didn't look like she understood, so I tried to explain. "I mean, the reason I started trying to be a hero was that I wanted to do the right thing. I got these powers, and I made a decision. With great power there must also come great responsibility.

"I have to be better than people that use their powers to hurt innocent people."

"So you didn't kill her because of this responsibility?" Laura asked.

"Pretty much."

Laura didn't say anything, before speaking with that typical self-assuredness children posses. "Responsibility sucks."

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah it does, Laura. But someone has to do the right thing. Save civilians from muggers, help old ladies cross the street..."

I smiled at her. "Help little girls escape the bad guys."

And that changed it for her.

Because at first, she saw my whole 'power/responsibility' as something bad. As the thing that stopped me from killing that bitch back at the diner.

But now it was different. Now, it was the thing that lead me to take her away. And she was starting to realize that I _was_ going to save her.

So, she sat there, with a thoughtful expression.

And we drove on.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **IT'S I! A SURPRISE UPDATE!**

 **Didn't expect one so soon, did you?**

 **Anyways, there's something that needs to be adressed: my identity.**

 **Honestly, I didn't think it'd be this big a deal, but at the request left in a review by the user Droyenes Uzushaki, I'm going to explain how this works.**

 **You don't fucking bother me about it.**

 **In case you haven't noticed, it's my identity, my story, and my prerogative to either fuck pussy or suck dick. Or both, if I'm in the mood.**

 **If it bothers you, you can leave and not be missed in the motherfucking slightest. Go to your alerts list and remove my story. If my identity and/or sexuality bother you that much, don't bother leaving a review.**

 **Oh, and to the user thepowerfullkira?**

 **If you use the N-word again in my reviews, I swear I will not rest until you are banned, you racist, homophobic piece of shit. I will suck as much dick as I feel like, you cunt.**

 **To everyone else that didn't bother me? We're cool. Enjoy my story, it's here for _you_.**

 **(PS: I'm glad you all liked the elseworld short story. Jake is just the Parker's cooky neighbor that happens to be a superhuman WW2 veteran.)**


	20. They Call Me Spidey Driver

**Chapter #17: They Call Me Spidey Driver...**

* * *

We were halfway through Wyoming before we stopped. I had to pick a lot of wallets, but I put them back after taking a little money. A little from a lot of people meant we had enough for a full tank of gas and a single room at a crappy motel.

I tried to get us a discount with some light flirting at the front desk, but the man wasn't receptive, so we paid full price and I let Laura take the bed, while I would sit on a chair near the door.

Before that, though, we had to use the bathroom.

"Are you ready?" I asked Laura.

She nodded nervously.

She pulled out one claw and cut her arm open. Fast as I could, I snapped a hand forward, stuck a single finger in the wound, and pulled out the tracking device, a small disk the same width as my pinkie.

She whimpered in pain, but the wound soon closed. I, like an idiot, did that stupid thing where you shush someone to calm them down.

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's over."

I pulled her in a hug, and brushed my clean hand on her hair. Eventually, she returned the hug.

"Okay," I said, putting on my coat. "I have to use this for a decoy. Stay here, and stay safe. Hide if someone that isn't me knocks, and if someone enters, you run. Understood?"

She nodded.

"Good girl," I smiled. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

I pulled my mask on and rushed off.

* * *

Kimura hadn't been the same since her run-in with Spider-Man. Sable couldn't say she was too heartbroken.

"He's a monster," she whispered, curled up in a fetal position. "He can't be human."

"Yes, yes," Sable said. "But _why_ can't he be human?"

"H-he knew what my power was," Kimura swallowed. "I turned them on, and he instantly realized what I'd done. He didn't even have to look at me. And then I c-couldn't touch him. It was like he knew everything I was going to do before I did it. And when he hit me it almost _hurt_ , but nothing can hurt me! NOTHING!"

"Yes, _I understand your point_ ," Sable almost slapped the woman. "What then?"

"He, he just _threw_ me through a wall, and then he started to drown me." Kimura started laughing hysterically. "But he didn't! I won, right? That means I won?"

"No." Sable said coldly, standing up and walking away. "You lost pathetically."

Sable felt sick just being near the people that worked at The Facility. She hated this assignment, but her father'd forced her to take it.

' _Large amounts of money secured for large amounts of time,_ ' Sable thought, bitterly. ' _And it only cost me and my men our souls._ '

Not like she could back out now. Leaving a job halfway was a death sentence for mercenaries. It left a bad precedent, one that would be almost impossible to shake off. Taskmaster and Elektra probably didn't mind, but Sable had a feeling that was the only thing keeping Deadpool around.

' _Strange, I almost feel comforted by knowing Deadpool agrees with me,_ ' Sable thought, not without amusement. ' _You'd think that would fill me with shame._ '

She looked at the screen, and saw that the subject was headed towards Kansas, where an ambush awaited them.

Sable wondered why they'd veered south. Maybe Spider-Man planned for them to escape into Mexico? That wouldn't stop The Facility, but it was an interesting thought to ponder.

Taskmaster liked to copy moves, but Sable liked to copy methods and tactics. Spider-Man was strange, in that he clearly knew how to think around an enemy if the way he dealt with Kimura was any indication, but literally couldn't fight a group to save his life.

He knocked out Elektra first, showing he realized she was the deadliest fighter (which Sable bitterly yet graciously admitted, as befitting a princess), but then he just jumped around, fighting whoever he had in front.

Sable almost looked forward to fighting him.

She used a teleporter, and appeared at the ambush site, where she soon took command over the eighty-thousand mercenaries.

Her eyebrow rose when the car that came up the road, with more of her people closing in behind it, wasn't a car at all, but a modified bus of some sort with the words "no sleep 'till Tijuana" painted on the side.

When it stopped in front of the barricade, her men ordered everyone inside to walk out and sit on the side of the road, while Sable walked in, tracker in hand.

She walked, further and further back, until she reached the foul-smelling bathroom.

Inside, on the back of the first aid kit was the tracker.

Next to it, there was a sheet of paper, folded to fit the kit, and with a drawing in marker of a spiderweb shaped like a heart, and a little spider with a smiley face hanging from it.

There was a speech bubble coming out of the spider. It said, "Nice try, hot stuff! XOXO, your friendly neighborhood babysitter Spider-Man!"

Sable smiled eagerly. She couldn't wait to crush him.

Maybe she should wear something special for the ocassion?

* * *

I gotta say, Nebraska deserves every joke South Park made about it.

"Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go~" I sang softly.

Laura didn't look up. I'd gotten her some paper and crayons on the last stop, and she'd been drawing in the backseat since. She didn't want to show me what it was until it was finished, but I'd caught a few glimpses, and I thought it was a comic of some sort.

The snowstorm was still looming overhead, but it wasn't falling for now. I'd found out that a storm was slowly covering the country.

"Bah," I grumbled. "Damn dramatic weather."

A few minutes later, we were at a gas station, with Laura still drawing at a table indoors and me making small talk with the cashier.

"Yeah, I completely agree," he said, nodding his head. "The Accords are completely unfair to underaged Capes, like those X-Men guys."

"Huh, you know the X-Men?" I raised an eyebrow. "They're pretty underground, compared to the Avengers."

"Yeah, but..." he sighed, and beconed me closer. "Okay, so we're not supposed to talk about this, but there's this group that's pretty... anti-mutie."

I resisted an urge to pull his teeth out at the slur. "That so?"

"Look, I'm not anti-mutie, but you gotta admit they're dangerous." Clearly, my thoughts showed on my expression, going by the fear that filled his. "Anyway, the group met the X-Men, and they all say they beat the crap out of them."

"That so?" I doubted it. The X-Men were better than that, they knew that throwing the first punch would just make things worse. Luckily, I was not better than that. "Where does this group meet?"

* * *

An hour later, I picked up Laura at the gas station and we drove away. The rally, which had several signs with pictures of the X-Men with x's painted on their eyes and one scarecrow dressed in their uniform, suddenly found itself stopped by a single man.

The whole thing was recorded, and while the man was always somehow facing away from the cameras, the whole internet could see how a completely regular human walked into a rally, destroyed the stand the leader was sitting on, and beat his way out.

The video became a massive YouTube sensation, and the end, where the man roared 'The first amendment protects you from the goverment, not from **me!** ' became extremely popular and quoted.

* * *

By the end of the day, we barely made it to Illinois. We weren't near any towns, I was half-asleep, and very much unwilling to let Laura drive, so we parked by the road, bundled up close with a blanket I acquired before, and we made warmth for each other as we slept through the night.

The next day, we made it all the way Ohio before shit went south. I was writing stuff down to get a room, when Laura tugged at my coat. I looked at her, and she pointed at a Christmas tree the motel had by the door.

"I'll tell you in a bit," Laura accepted that, and I finished the paperwork. I got the key (I'd made enough cash that we could afford a room with two beds, for once) and we walked into the room.

"That was a Christmas tree," I said, and from then launched into a probably too cynical explanation of Christmas.

"So these underpaid people just dress up like a fictional character and have children sit on their laps? That's..."

"Super creepy, yeah," I nodded.

"Did you ever meet one of those?"

"..."

* * *

 _I was five, I was pissed, and I was too smart for my own good._

 _My parents, who I'd never seen for more than an hour for the last year, had gotten it into their heads that it'd be good for their public images if they were seen spending time with the family._

 _They dragged me to a mall and told me to get a picture with Santa._

 _"I know you're not real," I whispered at the poor actor, who had the bad luck to be in front of me when I was on the warpath. "Watch what I do with it."_

 _With one pull, I removed the beard, the wig and the hat._

 _"BEHOLD!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "BEHOLD YOUR FALSE PROPHET!"_

 _Fury possessed the children, and soon a riot was in hand. Trash cans were toppled, windows were broken, shins were kicked. A few kids worked together, threw a trash can through a window, and soon televisions were being robbed._

 _A pillar of order among the chaos, I calmly walked to my parents, undisturbed by the riot around me or the guy with the pants on fire running into the fountain._

 _I looked at my parents._

 _"I think I should spend the holidays with the Parker family."_

* * *

"Only once," I said darkly, glaring at nothing.

Laura tried to pull an explanation out of me, but to no effect.

Eventually, we changed into pyjamas, and we went to our beds.

As I tucked her in, Laura looked at me. "Jake?"

"Yes, Laur-bear?"

"You know how we tell everyone you're my brother? For operational security?"

"Sure." I chuckled.

"... Can we do that even if there's no one else around?"

I blinked, before kneeling next to the bed and patting her head. "Sure thing, sis."

Her smile brightened up the room.

I went to bed, and I waited until I could hear Laura's shockingly loud snoring before I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

* * *

[DANGER!]

In the same picosecond, I woke up, and I started moving out of bed.

Just as I landed out of bed, a ninja landed on my bed, stabbing a katana down on where I'd just been.

Good thing I'd been sleeping with my mask and webshooters on for the last two days.

I punched the ninja through a wall, and jumped into action.

Laura was awake, and with a muzzle of some sort on her face. She look like she'd just waken up, and the handcuffs were still tigthening around her wrists.

Her claws came out, and she tore the cuffs off as I dropkicked the guy tying her up in the face.

[DANGER!]

This time, the warning wasn't enough. A kick hit me in the stomach and sent me through a window and I landed on the street on my back.

Elektra was there, holding both sai.

"Spider," she growled.

"Elektra," I greeted. "Are you mad about me knocking you out first?"

She growled some more and jumped down, both sai out.

I flipped onto my hands, and pushed myself away and onto my feet. Her sai pierced the concrete, but she pulled them out easily.

"I'll take that as a yes," I shot two webs at her, which she dodged, but I ran forward and kicked her in the face.

She rolled with it, and suddenly I had to jump back because her sai was coming for my throat.

Every time I attacked or dodged, I had to jump back because suddenly there was another attack there. It was like she could hide from my every sense even when she was directly in front of me.

But Matt had trained me for this.

When she made to stab me in the chest, I grabbed her wrist and raised her above my head. Naturally, the other sai went for my eye, but I just smashed her into the ground, making her release the sai. I pick them up and throw them away, both landing in a garbage can.

She jumps to her feet and tries to hit me, but I dance around her and retaliate with my own futile attacks.

"This is annoying," I say.

"Quite," she agrees. "But I'm afraid I have the upper hand."

I don't bother asking what she means, I just jump out of the way.

As soon as I do, hundreds of throwing stars and arrows hit the floor where I just was.

"You're going to need more than-" I was stopped from saying 'disposable ninjas' by a claymore sword swiping for my head. I jump out of the way and turn around. "Oh. Taskmaster's here too."

I look around, and see that I'm surrounded completely by a horde of ninjas, all of them armed to the teeth, and by Elektra and Taskmaster, both of whom outclass me in technique and experience by leagues. "Shit."

"Give up, Spider-Man," Elektra said. "You are outmanned, outgunned and surrounded."

I looked out of the corner of my eyes, and I saw several wounded ninjas, along with one Laura, who was looking at me with fear.

I caught a ninja that was holding two escrima sticks with a web line, pulled them to me, knocked them out with a single punch, and grabbed the sticks.

"The only things that surround me," I growled, "Are fear and **weaklings.** "

I think that, in the second before they all charged forward, I heard Taskmaster whisper an impressed ' _holy shit_ '.

The ninjas came first, an all-consuming, all-surrounding horde, trained to near-perfection to work together against foes like Captain America, Iron Fist and Daredevil.

They were not, however, trained for me.

At nineteen feet of distance, I started using webs to bind some togther, stick their feet to the ground and pull them off-balance, and blind them.

At sixteen feet of distance, I started pulling enemies forward and punching them, knocking them out and tossing them either into the ground, or into other ninjas.

At nine feet of distance, they entered ass-kicking range by themselves.

Every direction had an enemy in it, so I stopped thinking and I just let my training with Matt take over, dodging and hitting everyone I had in front of me with my sticks.

I ducked a swipe for my head, I punched a ninja.

I jumped over a sword, I smashed my escrima stick into someone's teeth.

I tilted my head to avoid a throwing star, and I kick someone in the crotch so hard I hear bone shatter.

It's not perfect. I still catch a few cuts from blades and bruises from blunt weapons, but I avoid the worst of it, and return in a manner they can't get back up from.

And then the fugue stops, because I have to jump out of the cluster to avoid Taskmaster's sword.

He'd blended in with the ninjas so well, just by copying their movements, that I never realized he'd joined the fray.

Mid-air, I have to use webs to dodge the throwing stars from Elektra, and soon land away from the cluster.

Taskmaster emerges, sword out, and I brandish my sticks. I block an overhead strike from his sword, and we stay there for a moment, him trying to cut my head in half vertically, and me trying to stop him.

"You've got good moves," he says, casually, like he isn't trying to kill me. "Daredevil and Black Widow, right?"

"And someone else," I tell him.

"Who?"

I kick him in the crotch, toss his sword to the side, and headbutt him. "ME!"

Of course, that's only a temporary reprieve. While I'm pulling back from the headbutt, I realize that it was a trap.

The realization hits just a moment before the throwing star hits my right eye.

I fall back, screaming at the pain. Taskmaster gasps in pain a little, but recovers soon enough.

"You think you're so clever?" Taskmaster grumbles, and I hear him pick up his sword. "I saw you fight for more than a minute, kid. I knew you were going to do that. But Elektra-"

"I FUCKING GET IT!" I scream. Really, it felt redundant for him to explain it.

"Language," he chided, holding the sword over his head, and readying to drop it on mine. "Goodbye."

I grit my teeth, and swallow.

I knew I wasn't going to die. But I didn't like why.

Children shouldn't have to fight.

I look up, just in time to see Laura cutting the sword with the claws on her hands, and using the one on her feet to cut a diagonal line on Taskmaster's face.

I use the opening, and for once, I almost don't hold back when I punch Taskmaster in the stomach.

Vomit fills his mask and escapes through the cut that Laura made. I grab him by the face, I pull the pin out of all the flashbangs on his belt, and I throw him at the ninja, grabbing Laura and running at the same time.

The flashbang hurts me and Laura worse than anyone, with our enhanced senses. But Matt taught me to travel just with smell.

* * *

By the time my ears and eyes recover, I'm sitting in a convenience store bathroom, with Laura looking for a first aid kit and clothes we could change into.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The throwing star was still there, stuck firmly on my eye.

I looked down and wince. There were hundreds of cuts and bruises across my body, and from the green look the cuts had, the weapons had probably been poisoned with some nasty stuff.

I wasn't worried. Natasha and I found out I was immune to most poisons by virtue of accelerated metabolism, and those that were too strong, she helped me become immune to.

' _Suckers,_ ' I thought, somewhat smugly.

Then I focused on my eye.

... It wasn't like there wasn't any way to get it back. The Marvel universe was full of geniuses. Even if I couldn't grow it back, I could probably get like a robot eye from Stark, or a magic replacement from Strange.

Still, it was pretty fucking shocking.

Laura entered the bathroom, holding a bag of clothes and a first aid kit.

I told her to wait outside, but she refused, so I turned my back to her as I removed the throwing star.

I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to scream, and the damn thing slowly slid out. Eventually, it was over, and I panted for breath.

I left the throwing star on the ground, and I started bandaging my eye.

"I'm sorry you had to step in," I whisper, once that's done and I can move on to cleaning the cuts on my body. Disinfectant doesn't do much against ninja poison, but I wasn't eager to mix poison with bacteria.

"I'm not." Laura replies, resolute. "You said it yourself, with great power comes great responsibility."

"Yeah," I admitted. "But children shouldn't have to fight."

"Why not?" Laura asked. "You're not far off from a kid yourself."

That...

That wasn't...

"Well," I muttered, as I wrapped up the last bandage around my chest. "Shit."

I couldn't argue that.

I was half asleep, but I forced myself to get up, hotwire another car, and drive away.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but I woke up in the back seat, Laura sitting next to me, and both of us covered by a blanket she found in the trunk.

I decided to sleep a bit more. I still kinda felt like crap.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **So yeah, Jake's down an eye.**

 **The title's a reference to the lyrics of the song 'Baby Driver', by the way.**


	21. The Trick is to Crash but not Burn

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: MADE IT TO A THOUSAND FAVORITES!**

 **WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

* * *

 **Chapter #18: The Trick is to Crash but not Burn  
**

* * *

Stealing another car was easy. Driving without my depth perspeption wasn't, but I managed.

"Fuck me!" I almost shouted, swerving at the last second do dodge a tree. "Where in the god-damned hell did that even come from?"

The answer, of course, was 'my right side'.

"Are you okay?" Laura whispered, and I forced my anger down.

"Don't worry Laur-bear, it's okay," I made a strained smile. "Just getting used to a new perspective."

She nodded, and we travelled quietly.

"Sorry we lost your drawings, by the way," I told her.

"Yeah, I was almost finished."

"What were you making?"

She looked away, and though I couldn't see her out the corner of my eye, a quick turn of my head revealed that she was red up to the ears. Cute.

"Hm, not gonna tell me?" she shook her head. "Then I'll just have to guess."

She stilled, and I took a deep breath.

"Was it... a self-portrait?" A relieved sigh, and a shake of her head.

"Was it... a painting the inside of the car?" A shake of her head.

"Was it... a painting of me beating up bad guys?" A sharp intake of breath, and a furious shake of her head.

"Oh? Am I getting closer?" I could hear her making a pout. "Was it... a comic about the adventures of Spider-Man and his cute little sister?"

She didn't move. She didn't breathe for a second.

She very slowly shook her head.

"Lying isn't allowed~" I turned my head again and found she was blushing even harder. "Damn, now I really wish I'd had read it."

"It wasn't that good," she muttered.

"Bah," I waved her off. "Doesn't matter. Everyone starts somewhere. The important part is to learn from what you did wrong and what you did right, and apply it."

"... I had a costume," she muttered. "My hero name was Lady Fly."

I snorted. "I like the 'Lady' part, it makes you sound classy, but I don't want to _eat_ you. Maybe 'Lady Spinerette'?"

She hummed. "I dunno..."

"Lady Weaver?"

She smiled. "Yeah! Lady Weaver sounds cool!"

"There you go," I smiled. "Spider-Man and Lady Weaver, travelling together and fighting crime where they can."

I heard her breathing change, and saw that she wasn't smiling anymore.

"Laur-bear? What's wrong?"

She swallowed nervously. "Y-you're taking me somewhere with more people like me, right?"

Huh. Between everything, I almost forgot about the Xavier Mansion. I was just focusing on getting back to New York. The thought was almost bitter. The X-Mansion? That place that was either exploded, infiltrated, or being invaded half the time? That's where I was sending Laura? I wouldn't stop talking to her, but...

But I couldn't just adopt her out of nowhere.

I swallowed and spoke, "That's the plan. Or, well, the original one. I'm open to changes."

"... can I suggest one?" she said, voice strained. I knew that tone. It's the same one I use when I'm forcing words out through a knot on my throat.

"Sure," I said.

"Please don't send me away."

My grip on the wheel tightened, and I tried to find something to say.

"I-" I cleared my throat. "I'm not just sending you away, Laura."

She sniffed, and nodded. "It's okay, I get it."

' _I can't just adopt her, my family wouldn't take her._ '

The Parkers would.

' _The law is still an issue._ '

Laws are bullshit and I had contacts in the CPS I could use to speed things up.

' _I'd be giving the Parkers a burden._ '

I had many, _many_ plans on how I could undo any monetary burdens that might befall them. And Laura would never be a burden.

I grit my teeth and drove on.

* * *

"How is he?" Sable asked.

"He'll live," one of her medics said. "Some internal bleeding, a couple fractured ribs, and the cut on his face will leave a scar, but he'll live. He shouldn't be too active for a while, though."

"Hm," the silver-haired mercenary looked down at her co-worker. "I'll make sure he gets rest. You can go."

"Understood." The doctor left without another word, and Sable strode out.

Out in the hallway, standing there with his arms crossed, was Deadpool.

"Is Skull-face okay?"

"He'll live."

"Hm," the Merc with a Mouth, for once, didn't say another thing, and just walked out. That, on its own, was unnerving enough. But the whole Deadpool had been holding a gun, and tapping his bicep with it.

"Were you two close?" Sable asked, genuinely curious.

"No, we're a step down from drinking buddies, to be honest," Deadpool said.

"Then why the threatening silence?"

"... I'm starting to have doubts about this job, Princess." Deadpool looked her in the eye. "Can you seriously tell me, after watching what the ninjas recorded, that the ' _experiment_ ' is really anything other than a little girl?"

Sable twitched a little. Elektra's ninja squad had been equipped with cameras, so they could be better prepared in case the Spider-Man slipped away again.

The girl- the _experiment_ had screamed when she saw Spider-Man was in danger, had been afraid of the team of assassins, had jumped in to help when she saw the hero was in danger.

She'd acted like a normal girl would, in her position.

"It doesn't matter," Sable said, ignoring the faint desire to throw up. "We were hired for a job, and we'll finish it. We are mercenaries."

Deadpool stared at her, and then spoke with the wisdom gained through several battles and millions of wounds.

"Horseshit."

And then he teleported away.

' _I deeply regret giving him that thing._ _He keeps using it to end conversations._ ' Sable thought, as an excuse to ignore any other thing she could be thinking about.

* * *

I was resting in an alley in Ohio, a beanie tilted right and pressing my hair down as to hide the lost eye.

My wounds were looking a lot less green last time I'd changed my bandages, but they weren't healing fast enough. They should have faded to scars but now, but they were still scabs that bled if I moved too fast.

"Fucking ninjas," I grumbled. In any other situation, I would've laughed a little that my life was such that I could say that completely seriously and based on personal experience.

Laura ran up the alley, holding a bag full of bandages and snacks. I thanked her with head-pats.

Once I changed my bandages in the alley, facing away from Laura when I did my eye, we took a new car that I made sure belonged to some wealthy idiot.

While we drove down the road, I ran a list in my head:

1) I'd lost the map, my utility belt, all my suit except my mask, and my backup web cartridges in the car we left when the fucking ninjas attacked.

2) We were one state away from New York.

3) I was still healing and getting used to a lack of depth perception.

4) I'd lost my glasses, so everything was also blurry.

As we made a pit stop a little while before entering Pennsylvania, I bought a new map, and some actual food. I had to sneak into the employee cafeteria and use their microwave to heat up the frozen burritos, but it was fine.

Except for...

* * *

 _"C'mon," I grumbled at the microwave. "Cook faster, fuckers."  
_

 _The door opened, and I turned to look at it._

 _A pimply teenager with red hair stared at me. I was probably something of a sight, with my mask on, wearing a hoodie that proudly said "The Earth May Be Flat, But This Booty Ain't", jean's with pre-ripped knees, and clearly visible mismatched socks, with my arms crossed, and with my body language indicating I wanted to slap the microwave.  
_

 _"Um," his voice cracked on that single syllable, before a web slammed into the wall next to his head._

 _"You. Saw. Nothing."_

* * *

Yeah, that was awkward.

Laura was doing her best to inhale her burrito, and I'd already finished mine. We were sitting on the roof of the car, having brushed off the snow first and covered the remaining wet with a tarp.

"I take it you liked that burrito?" I asked, smirking a little. She nodded her head enthusiastically. "Hm, I'll have to get you some more food to try later."

She swallowed. "Promise?"

"..."

' _I'm making a mistake._ '

"I promise." I made an 'x' over my heart.

' _I'm making a mistake._ '

I repressed a wince when a very little body with a very heavy skeleton smashed into my side.

' _I'm making a mistake._ '

I patted her head, and two watery eyes looked up at me, followed by a tear-stained smile.

' _Oh, who fucking cares?_ '

[A body appearing when it wasn't there before]

I snapped up and stared down the barrel of one of Deadpool's many, many guns.

"D'aww," he said. There was something off about his voice, I realized with some detachment. "This is so sweet!"

I grabbed Laura and threw us backwards, sticking to the door with my feet and dodging his shot. I dropped my sister on the ground next to me, and I used a web to pull Deadpool over the edge of the roof and punch him into the ground, still parallel to the ground.

I dropped and flipped on to my feet, while he did some sort of breakdance move to spin on his head, making a very loud 'CRACK!' noise, then flipping onto his feet, his head facing the wrong way.

"Gross," I said, then I punched through his chest, grabbed his spine, and flung him away while my other hand pulled on my mask.

He coughed up some blood through the mask as his bones fixed up, and I got the dubious pleasure of seeing a body fill up from a hole in the middle.

I blinked. "Somehow grosser."

"Fu-huck," he puked some more blood, "You."

"Language, shit-weed! There's a kid present!"

His chest finished healing. One of the quicker versions of his healing factor, then.

What, you thought I let him heal just because?

I ran forward and threw a flying kick at his head. I went way overhead and sailed right over him.

"That lost eye really messed you up, huh?" He aimed a gun at me again, and I dove to the side as bullets tore through the space I left. "Not that that's affected your reflexes."

He was measuring him. That's what people forgot about Deadpool: very deep under all the crazy, there was a keen trained mind.

"Have at thee!" he threw a rubber chicken at me. I caught it and threw it at his head. "Ow!"

... Very, very deep under all the crazy.

He charged at me, and I kicked some snow so it flew at his face. He slipped as he threw his body back to avoid it, and I hit through the curtain of snow to smash him into the ground.

I tried to straddle him blindly, but an arm came out of the right and suddenly we were spinning, and he was on top of me, with one hand on my neck and the other pointing a gun at my face.

I tried to call him a cunt, but I just made some strangled sounds.

"Right back at you," he said. "Listen, I need you to answer a question."

I gave him a look that I hoped, even through the mask, expressed how he could have gotten an answer easier if he hadn't pointed a gun at me.

"Yeah, well, this needed answering quick," he said, before looking up at something. "Is she real? I mean, is she a real kid?"

He loosened the grip on my throat, and I looked up (relative to the floor) to see Laura, claws out, staring at me with worry, and at the gun aimed at my head.

I looked at Deadpool in the eye, as best as I could with both our masks. "Yes."

For a moment, nothing.

"Right then," He got off of me, holstered his gun, and helped me up. "How can I help you two?"

I stared at him. He looked at me.

I looked at Laura. She stared at him, then at me.

I looked at Deadpool. He looked at me, then at Laura, then back at me.

Finally, he said, "What?"

' _This motherfucker..._ '

I punched him in the throat, and Laura ran up and stabbed him in the leg.

"Gah, fuck!" He croaked, falling to the floor.

"Get healed and then go to the car. We'll talk there." I said, walking away, limping slightly. Laura stuck to my side and tried to support my weight. She didn't help much, but she kept at it until I was sitting on the driver's seat, then she ran around the side and sat to my side.

"Can we trust him?" She whispered at me, casting looks at Deadpool outside, who was struggling to stand.

"Deadpool's pretty nuts, but he has standards. He was probably suckered into working with-" I gestured vaguely. Laura didn't like direct mentions of the assholes that tortured her, which was completely understandable. "He's deadly and has certain moral standards. He won't hurt you."

"And what about you?"

He could probably find it in his heart to fuck me up, and as I was, I wouldn't be too much of a challenge.

"I'll be fine, if he hadn't started talking I would have split him in two vertically," Laura's eyes glimmered somewhat alarmingly at that mention of wanton brutality.

' _I'm going to fuck up this kid so bad._ '

I'd already done some damage, I might as well be responsible and make sure she's not a serial killer.

Deadpool finally limped into the car, and he dropped in the back seat. "You guys are jerks."

"You helped them torture me," Laura growled.

Through his mask, I could see Deadpool's expression sour in his head, and his head dropped.

I started driving while he stared down. Laura never stopped staring him down, even while she put on her seatbelt.

"I-" the words caught in his throat, and he swallowed before continuing in a whisper. "I'm so, so sorry."

"' _Sorry_ ' doesn't change anything," Laura said. She stared him down for a while, before she sighed, and turned around. "But I appreciate you helping, even if it's late."

Deadpool looked up hopefully, but Laura didn't look back. I caught his eye on the mirror, and I gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

I just hoped we didn't stumble into all the homoerotism the other versions have. That'd just be creepy with our ages.

We drove on for a while, until Laura reached into the glove box and handed me two energy bars, and took one for herself.

Catching her intent, I tossed one at Deadpool, who caught it effortlessly, and started opening my own with my teeth.

"Nice use of your teeth," Deadpool said.

I sighed. ' _Dammit._ '

* * *

We were halway out of Pennsylvania, when-

[The sound of steel blade spinning, lifting a heavy metal container]

-shit went south once more.

"Ah, fuckberries," I muttered.

"What? You just twiched your head and cursed." Deadpool said.

"Crap, one he does that bad guys are near." Laura explained.

"Language," I chastised, accelerating more.

[Tires, breaking ice under them and spinning]

I looked to the left and saw several cars in the distance, blurry but there.

"Fuckberries on a shit-pancake," I grumbled, slightly louder than my previous mutter.

"Wh- Oh, crap, that's a lot of cars."

"Language!" I told him.

[More helicopters, more cars, and a few bikes]

"Well that's just-"

[Two trucks, facing each other and put perpendicularly to the street. Several people holding guns, and two in particular that held what felt like missile launchers]

"Oh, just fuck me, why don't you?!" I shouted, hitting the wheel and leaving it dented. I could just barely see the barricade setting up on the horizon.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?!" Laura and Deadpool shouted.

"LANGUAGE!" I put the pedal to the metal, mind going a thousand miles a second. I remebered something from an old piece of fanfiction that I'd thought so insanely cool that I always wanted to do it.

I grinned ferally."AND THROW DOWN YOUR WINDOWS! I have a plan!"

They did as much, Laura bundling in her coat, and Deadpool pulling a unicorn-print blanket from... _somewhere_ and covering himself in it.

"Now, when I tell you..." I grabbed my lever -the type that throws the back of your seat down, you know the one- and relaxed my breathing. "Throw yourselves down however you can.

I felt them nod, but I just stared at the barricade.

The frozen wind felt like razors against my skin.

I couldn't use my eyes to see the rockets, I had to use everything else.

A headache started from how hard I was gritting my teeth.

I saw two flashes of light from the rocket launchers.

[One was moving upwards at a slight angle]

[The other was headed straight forward towards us]

[We were at a slight inclination terrain-wise]

"NOW!"

Laura undid her seatbelt and dove under the glovebox, hands over her head.

Deadpool fully threw himself over the seat, where the feet went.

I fully turned the wheel sideways, and threw my seat back, lying on it.

Those three events occupied the same two seconds.

I threw the handbreak, and laid down.

[The misiles approached]

[Bullets of several guns slammed into the car. None broke through the doors.]

For a glorious second, even slightly blurry, I got to see a missile, sailing over me as it entered empty window of my door used to occupy, and went out the other window, pushing Laura's hair but leaving her unharmed.

[The second misile went straight into one window and came out the other, flying over Deadpool]

I undid the handbreak, let the car finish the spin, and used the handbreak again to right it as I finished getting up and drove it straight through the space between the two trucks that they'd left to move around the guns and goons.

I think I saw a few of them mouth the words ' _holy fucking shit_ '.

" _HOLY SHIT!_ " Deadpool screamed, getting back on his seat. "I AM SO MAD WE DON'T GET TO SEE THAT ON A VIDEO!"

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Laura agreed.

Bullets started raining back on the car, and I shouted, "STAY DOWN, AND THANK YOU!"

I slumped down on the seat, using every sense but sight to guide the car as bullets tore into it. I reached and touched a button at the front to roll up the windows, some of which were immidiately nicked by bullets.

The bullets stopped but-

[People entering the trucks again and the two vehicles starting again]

[The other cars, bikes and the one helicopter catching up]

We weren't out of the woods just yet.

* * *

Sable glared down at the car. Out of the rear window, he could make out Deadpool's idiotic red costume.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to shout at Deadpool about how didn't he know how his actions would affect him? Why would he do something that could ruin him forever?

She wanted to shout at the girl- at the experiment, she wanted to curse at her for refusing to leaver her thoughts.

She wanted to tear at Spider-Man for getting involved with other people's business, for treating the experiment like a girl and starting this whole damned thing.

Because that was it, wasn't it? The Facility had put, in the contracts they sent out, that they wanted 'assistance in re-adquiring several escaped experiments, and to help keep them under control'. And once Sable found out what that truly meant...

Well, how would it look if the Princess of a country and head of an international mercenary organization for something as petty as simple unethical experiments on children? Everyone would think she was ruled by her emotions.

Like they didn't already, she wanted to scoff.

And yeah. More than anything else at the moment, she wanted to shout at herself for caring. As it turns out, it's a lot harder to be professional when the guy in the spider fursona suit punched you and asked you how you couldn't see how fucked up your job was.

She rubbed her eyes. She couldn't do any of that. She was a professional.

"Ma'am?" The pilot turned to her. "Target is well in sight. Open fire?"

"... No." She had to do _something_. She wasn't sure what. "I'm sure he has more tricks. Let's wait for him to waste them all."

"Yes'm."

* * *

I was shit out of tricks, after the window stunt.

Luckily, we managed to keep away from the mercs long enough to start entering the state of New York.

Our tail was still attatched to our collective ass, and from time to time someone made a shot that came vaguely close to us, but we were managing.

Then I looked at the meter.

"Deadpool! How long do you think until we get to New York, the city?" I asked.

The Merc with a Mouth leaned between the seats, and clicked his tongue.

"We don't have enough gas for the whole way," Deadpool grumbled.

"Hm," I said, stoically.

' _FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck-fuck-fuck!_ '

Our shit was cooked. Our asses were on the fire.

We were dead, we were totally completely fucked up and down.

' _Stay calm, stay fucking calm! What would my mentors say?_ '

* * *

 _Deadpool clasped my shoulder. "Ninja your way through it. Also, sleep with the villain."_

* * *

I shook my head, that wasn't any help.

* * *

 _Black Widow clasped my shoulder. "Solid Snake your way through it. Also, sleep with the villain."  
_

* * *

Fine! No actual mentors! What about my ficitonal mentors?

* * *

 _Batman clasped m-_

* * *

Anyone else!

* * *

 _A memory of my previous life. I was reading some webcomic called Paranatural, and a character said 'All roads lead to Rome. But we ain't going to Rome.'_

 _He jumped off of the road. I laughed and mentally filed it as 'Insane Troll Logic'._

* * *

A feral smile widened my lips, and I tightened my grip on the wheel. "You said we wouldn't make it the whole way?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Then we're not taking the whole way."

I swerved the car to the right, and we left the road.

* * *

"I was wondering what he would do about the need for gasoline," Sable admitted, sounding almost casual. "In hindsight, this was the only reasonable answer."

"Leaving the road and dodging trees on a car is reasonable, ma'am?" the pilot asked, sounding almost amused.

"No," a corner of her mouth quirked up and fell just as quick. "But I'm learning that's the kind of _brilliant_ strategies he comes up with."

"... you _are_ being sarcastic when you call them 'brilliant', right?" the pilot asked. "I think you are, but I want to make sure."

"Well, normally I would have been sarcastic in that case, but they always seem to work for him."

* * *

"This was a bad idea!" Laura shouted.

"It was my only one!" I admitted.

I barely dodged another tree, and we had two seconds of peace as we crossed another bit of road, before we went back into the wildenress.

Then, in the distance...

"Oh thank you, God," I whispered. "Thank you, Thor, Odin, Loki, Other or whoever. Thank you."

I gave a little maniacal laugh, and swerved the car into the road leading up to the toll booths. We cut in front of a truck, smashed through the little flappy arm of one, and soon enough we were escaping a shit-ton of mercs _and_ some cops.

"HAVE YOU GUYS EVER SEEN ' _BLUES BROTHERS_ '?!" Deadpool shouted over the roar of gunfire from... basically _everyone_ behind us.

"NO!" Laura shouted back.

"YEAH!" I shouted, driving around different cars, sometimes leaving the road to drive on some grass. "AND HERE'S A REANACTMENT!"

Black Widow had taught me how to hotwire, how to manipulate the brakes to control the car's movement, but we'd never had a chance to really do some actual insane stunts instead of just theory.

Driving through New York at full speed while down one eye, half dead on my feet from exhaustion, and suffering a headache from how hard I'd been gritting my teeth definitely counted as an actual insane stunt.

' _I'm making a mistake._ '

Bah, since when did I listen to that guy anyways?

I drifted around a corner, losing several cop cars and a few mercs.

For a beautiful second, as I finished drifting, I thought, ' _Holy shit, I'm gonna win this!_ '

Naturally, that's when the wheels of the car popped because two cops rolled out some of those spiky things.

"Shit," I said, just before the car started rolling.

* * *

Sable dropped out of the helicopter on a cable, and ignored the policemen as she marched towards the upside-down car. Her men would intercept them anyways.

She felt a sick satisfaction, as she approached the vehicle.

' _You see?_ ' She thought. ' _You see what happens when you meddle in others' affairs? What happens when you go back on your word?_ '

She knew she was right, this was just the universe's way of proving it.

And then the driver's door went flying from a single punch.

Crawling pitifully, Spider-Man exited the upside-down car. He turned around, and slowly pulled out the girl by the legs.

' _No,_ ' Sable grit her teeth. ' _No, dammit, no!_ '

The man held the girl with one arm against his chest, supportive. His other hand was down at his side, made into a fist with skinless knuckles.

His mask was torn, and his clothes were ridiculous, obviously taken from anywhere he could get.

But the Sablinova princess could see one of Spider-Man's eyes. It had heavy bags, it was visibly bloodshot even at a distance, and a cut above the eyebrow was spilling blood on it.

But she could see burning defiance and determination on it.

"Back. The. Fuck. Off." He growled.

' _I knew I should have worn my nice body armor,_ ' a detached part of Silver's brain thought.

"Why are you so damn persistant in protecting her?" Sable asked.

"Because she's just a kid," the man replied.

"Is that it? That's your sole reason for facing an army?"

"It's the only one I need." She could tell a sardonic entered his expression, though his focus didn't waver for a second. "Besides, I think I did fine against your army."

"Is that what you'd call it?" She made a whole production of looking him up and down.

"I made it to New York, didn't I?" His right foot slid back. He always had that tilt when he fought, like a right-handed boxer. It was obvious that was the base and foundation of his peculiar fighting style. "Not half bad for just one 16-year-old smartass from Queens."

Ah, that's what that accent was.

Silver looked at the pistol at her side, and back at the man, perfectly ready to fight her or die trying. All for one girl.

"So you're doing all this because of your moral code?" Silver smiled, "Rather foolish, no?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But nobility obligates."

"That it does."

Sable tapped her earpiece, "Everyone stand down. We are retiring from this damned contract."

"Oh thank God," the man sighed, and he fell backwards onto his ass, wrapping the girl with both arms. "I was so fucked if you attacked me."

Sable contemplated re-taking the contract, with that information in mind.

The girl stirred, and Spider-Man looked at her. "Heya, sleepy head. Guess what? We're home free!"

Damn. That just wasn't fair.

* * *

I helped Deadpool out of the car as his broken neck healed, and slumped next to him against the upside-down car. Laura sat on my other side, and I felt the adrenaline drain, as I started remembering how much my everything hurt.

My head swam, and my eyelids got heavier.

[Two bodies appearing where they weren't before]

[What is the meaning of this?!]

[Sable International has decided to cancel our contract with you immidiately on account of the fact that you are a bastard. You will be compensated by the suddeness of this event by getting back your last paycheck, plus a small interest. I suggest you take what's yours and leave, sir, as I will only allow you _one_ more use of Sable International's teleporters.]

[I damn well intend to take what is mine!]

My eyes opened slightly, and I lazily wiped the blood from my eye.

There was a guy with a shitty haircut was shouting at a hot girl wearing a silver skintight bodysuit. He was really going at it, smashing a finger against her chest, and screaming so hard I was sure spittle was flying.

"... And I'm telling _you_ , sir, that the girl, as a human being, has rights."

"She's a mutant!"

"And they, too, have rights."

Haricut walked around the sexy silver lady, and made towards me, but the silver lady pulled a gun and leveled it to his head.

"I wouldn't," she warned.

"Funny," a cruel smile appeared on the guy's face. "I was going to tell you the same thing."

He snapped his fingers, and a bunch of goons that had melted into the background suddenly pointed their guns at the silver lady.

"Did you think I let you in my facility just like that? I deviced some chemicals to put people in a state of hypnosis years ago. I never managed to catch you, but I did get over 90% of your men."

The silver lady growled. It was very dramatic.

I felt a guy next to me stir, and I leaned in to whisper. I know it's a bad habit, but I try to be quiet about it when I go to the cinema.

"I hate this cliché," I confided in a whisper. "They should just shoot the mind control guy and then the soldiers would go back to normal."

"Good point," he whispered back. There was something weird about his-

 _BANG!_

-HOLY SHIT I WASN'T WATCHING A MOVIE!

The gunshot snapped me and Laura fully awake, and I watched the bad haircut guy drop.

Smiles from the diner was there, staring at me with fear as I looked around.

There were a few policemen around, looking confused.

Silver Sable just watched the guy drop and snorted with amusement.

"Jesus Christ!" I said. I turned and found Deadpool there, gun still smoking and aimed in the asshole's general direction. "Wilson, you cunt! You shot the guy!"

"It was your idea!" he whined, holstering the gun. "Also, language."

I punched him.

* * *

After that, I was in the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, getting patched up by someone whose nametag declared them to be 'Helen Cho'.

I was sure that meant something, but I was at the moment high off my metaphorical balls on extraordinary amounts of morphine.

"Oh," I sighed in contentment. "There _is_ a God, and it loves me."

"Is that so?" Dr. Cho sounded amused.

"Indeed," I relaxed, not even feeling her finish the stitches on my face.

I'd missed the last days before Winter Vacation on the sudden field trip across the states, so it was going to be a trip for some people to see me return to the last semester with a visible scar on my face. Then again, the other side of my face was missing a whole fucking eye, so yeah.

I'd already called the Parkers and let them know that I was fine, and that I'd have to ask them for a favor when I got back.

After that, I let myself drift off to morphine land.

Of course, it wasn't to be, and soon the drugs ended and I pretty much instantly sobered up. Which meant all the pain was also back.

"Fuck," I groaned. "Well, it was nice while it lasted."

For the fuck of it, I picked up the phone they left by my bed and tried Strange's number. I was sure he was still in the spooky who-fucking-cares dimension, but-

"Hello? 177A Bleecker Street?" Illyana answered.

"Oh hell yeah," I sighed.

"Jake? Is that you?"

"Yup, the one and only," I said.

"Jake! What's up, are you setting up another movie maraton? I think I have the weekend off, so we could probably make it a sleepover and you can catch me up on all your dumb Sci-Fi."

"Actually, I had a question for the doc, but I'd love to organize that when I'm a bit less tied up."

"Hey, I'm sure I can handle any magic problems you might have stumbled into!" she sounded a bit offended, and I was in too much pain to care about politeness.

"It's less a Magic Problem and more a I'm-Missing-A-Fucking-Eye Problem."

For half a minute, complete silence.

I leaned the phone away from my ear in preparation for some incredulous screams.

A glowing yellow portal opened at the foot of my bed, and there came the Atomic Blonde, screaming, "YOU'RE MISSING A WHAT?!"

* * *

"By the Eye of Agamotto," Strange whispered, looking at me after I finished my story. "They fucked you up but _good_."

"Fuckin' tell me about it," I said, slumping on his nice couch and nibbling a sandwich Wong handed me. He's such a mother hen. "So, any chance I'll get a Magic Eye of X-Ray Vision? Or a Magical Wye of Depth Perception? Either works, since they took out the old one while I was out."

The thing was busted anyways.

"Afraid not," he rubbed his hands unconsciously, "I'm afraid that certain things that get lost, by crushing or piercing, can't be returned by any ethical means."

"Shit," I said. "Anything to hide the whole missing fucking eye, at least?"

"I'll see what I can do," he said, and floated off.

Wong and Illyana returned from the kitchen, holding as many sandwiches as they could between them. Telling them about my metabolism was a mistake.

Illy asked if S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be mad that I skipped out, but I shrugged and said that they probably expected it from someone trained by Murdock and Romanoff.

"On that note," I smiled at her. "Wanna help me break someone else out?"

Soon, I was sharing my mountain of sandwiches with a ravenous little girl.

* * *

"I still have doubts," May said over dinner.

"What about?" I asked, tossing a steak in the air and catching it with my mouth, to the applause of Peter and Laura.

"You just made two calls, and suddenly it takes us a single hour to adopt a little girl?" May asked. "It doesn't seem ethical."

I shrugged. "Maybe not, but it was a bad thing for a good reason."

May frowned, but looked at Laura as she laughed at Peter's goofy face as he put two chopsticks in his mouth and pretended to be a walrus.

"Yes, I guess it was."

"I for one, welcome our new adorable overlord."

We laughed, and I leaned back, hiding a quick wince at the remaining pain from the healing cuts on my chest.

I realized I was thumbing the ring on my right middle finger, the one Strange gave me so that an illusion would make it look like I had both eyes. I stopped before anyone noticed.

The Parkers knew about my eye, but they never got to see, and I never let Laura catch a good look. They never would if I could help it.

I still felt like shit. But I had done the right thing, and I had a pair of numbers on my phone from two excellent mercenaries that thought they owed me, and the Avengers were fucking up everyone and everything related to Laura's past.

I felt good.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **I'm free! I'm free of this accursed mini-arc!**

 **Now I just have to post the last chapter of this arc, which is a Christmas one, and we'll get to one of the arcs I've been most excited to write.**

 **But first, the next chapter. Get ready for one of Marvel's sexiest and most iconic villains and/or anti-heroes...**

 **(PS: Between starting to write this and finishing it, I finally saw Far From Home. I'm not gonna spoil it for late viewers like myself, but let me tell you, it was great!)**


	22. I Never Freeze (Except in Winter)

**Chapter #19: I Never Freeze (Except in the Winter)**

* * *

I was going viral, apparently.

"See? How cool is that!" Flash said, as the video on his phone restarted and I got to see from the outside how the car spun, let the two misiles go through the windows in slow-motion, and finished spinning to pass through the trucks. "This is _proof_ that Spider-Man is the coolest hero."

"Looks fake," I said, just for the sake of being annoying. "Where did this even come from?"

"One of the Sable International mooks uploaded it anonymously to the internet, apparently," Gwen said, researching on her own phone. "Seems like bad security, but what do I know?"

"Hm," I said.

I'd been a little worried about Sable after she quit the contract for Laura and I, but apparently there was an underestimated market for mercs with a sense of right and wrong. Good deeds needed doing about as much as bad ones, and some people were willing to pay for that. Last time we texted, Sable told me her company was going to 'take care' of some African Warlord famed for torturing his political enemies, so they'd need to lay low after that on account of the job being an international incident.

"So, how are things with your new little sister, in any case?" Flash asked. We couldn't keep Laura a secret, and she'd been on the news, so we just said we adopted her as soon as possible. "Does she have any good Spider-Man stories?"

"Not really," Peter said. "They mostly just drove in a straight line to New York without talking much."

"Boo," Flash said, tossing a fry at him. I caught it and shoved it in my mouth.

Illyana finally spoke up, once she was done mouth-harrassing her burger. "Still, it was pretty cool of you guys to adopt her just like that."

"Eh," Peter shrugged. "Lately we've been doing fine with money, and it was the right thing to do."

I smirked, "On a completely unrelated subject, Flash, I like your new hoodie. How much did it cost?"

"Oh, it was pretty expensive, but _so_ worth it." His hoodie was designed to look like the top part of my costume, webs inside the hood and everything. "Why?"

Those hoodies had paid to renovate the basement into my new bedroom, now that I'd given the guest room to Laura. "No reason."

"It looks nice on you," Illyana told Flash, whose ears suddenly went red, and he mumbled a 'thank you'.

I raised an eyebrow. Flash didn't meet my eyes, while Illy did and smirked at me.

Fuckin' weird, but okay.

"Anyways, that's not why I summoned the Council of Blondes and Peter here," I said, clapping my hands. I reached into the bag at my feet, and I pulled up some presents. "I've come bearing gifts for you lot."

"Aw, what?" Gwen complained. "Jake, I didn't get you anything!"

"Well, now you owe me." I said, handing her a little box with a bow. I didn't bother covering hers in wrapping paper, since I knew that was her favourite part of the presents. She tossed me a quick glared, but she cut the bow and gasped when she saw the little necklace with a red heart-shaped gem. "Oh my god, Jake! How much did this cost?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I beat up a drug dealer and used all his money -and some of his crack- to buy that through some of my contacts."

Flash laughed. Everyone else that knew my identity laughed more nervously, and Gwen had an expression that said 'oh-god-my-present-was-bought-with-drug-money'.

"Now, for everyone's favourite jock," I said, handing a box that was covered in wrapping paper to Flash. He opened it and pulled out a picture frame, holding a photo of me in the suit, mid-swing.

The picture was signed. I'd used my left hand, so the signature looked pretty weird, but it worked.

"Yeah," I said, watching how his jaw dropped as he tried to process it. "It was just going to be a picture, but he stopped by the rooftop where I took the picture and offered it to sign it. Terrible handwriting, that guy."

Usually it was a bit cheap to give a signed picture of yourself as a present, but Flash didn't seem to mind.

"This is the coolest thing I own," he whispered.

Really, really didn't mind.

"Now, to my favourite blonde-"

"Hey!" Gwen complained, but Flash was still transfixed with the picture.

"I give this," I said, pulling out a huge tupperware. "This should have enough of May's triple-chip fudge cookies to last you two whole days, at the pace you go through them."

She was already eating them, but she thanked me through a full mouth.

"And as to my dear brother..." Peter grinned expectantly. "Your present is under the tree. Wait for the Christmas party, ya greedy bitch."

"The Christmas-" Peter blinked. "Dude, I'm not going."

"What?" I frowned. "They're doing it in your house, how are you not going? Can I come with?"

Peter and I both hated the Anual Neighborhood Christmas Party. Every year, someone's house was picked at random, and we all went there with food and just celebrated together because togetherness or some shit. Since we knew each other, we'd been joining forces to weather through it.

Except for that one Winter when I was five. But we don't talk about that.

"Um," Peter looked uncomfortable.

"Peter, I thought you said you'd tell him," Gwen hissed.

"I kinda forgot?" Peter said, smiling awkwardly.

"Tell me wha-" the hamster on a wheel that operated my brain finished its lap. "OH! Oooooh!"

Peter and Gwen blushed furiously as I looked between them.

"Yeah, no, sure!" I said, feeling a bit of heat on my own ears. "You go have fun- I mean, enjoy your- YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

Flash and Illy looked up from their presents to give me some weird looks, but turned their focus back down soon after.

"Right," Peter said, completely red.

"We will," Gwen added.

"Good, glad for you two." I cleared my throat. "Well, I'm out."

And I ran off the cafe.

* * *

' _This blows,_ ' I thought, sipping some punch that didn't have at least one bit of booze on it. Big parties were never my scene. I really preffered to get together with a few close friends and maybe drink them all under the table.

The Christmas Party was a bunch of people I didn't know in a house I wasn't used to with music I didn't like blasting at full volume. And not a drop of Vodka anywhere in sight to make it tolerable.

It was bad enough normally, but with my new senses, I wanted to crawl under the earth and die.

I looked Laura's way, to see if she was doing any better.

She was wearing a new green dress that May had gotten her, and over it she wore a hand-made sweater that said "Dear Santa: I blame my brothers".

(My own sweater said "Dear Santa: I blame my sister".)

She was the belle of the ball, with everyone's attention on her as May went around introducing her. She was smiling all toothy-like, beaming under people's praise and shaking hands very formally with the older people.

I was hugging the wall, sipping my punch. Everytime someone got too near I felt a familiar tightness around my chest.

God, this'd be easier if I were Spider-Man right now. It was a bit startling how quickly my alter-ego became a comfort blanket.

I slid around people, and made it to the front door. I slipped out, and took a deep breath of fresh air. On exhaling, my breath curled white in the crisp winter air.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, leaned back against a wall, and closed my eyes. Or, well, my eye.

"Not one for crowds?" The old man that'd been standing there the whole time asked, sounding amused. He was leaning against a wall next to the door opposite to me.

"Not really," I admitted. "I'm more of a small gathering kind of guy."

"Hm," the guy said.

I opened my eye. I vaguely recognized the old man as someone I saw around a few times, but I couldn't recall his name.

"How about you?"

"Oh, well," he shrugged. "Usually I don't mind, but..."

I waited. He didn't continue.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of silence," I said, somewhat ironically.

He didn't say anything for a while, and we just watched the snow fall around us at the music played in the house.

"You'd think a party full of old men would be quieter, huh?" he asked, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Well, some did drag their grandkids to the party," I said, a bit amused. "And there is a new addition to the neighborhood for everyone to fawn over."

"The Parker girl, right?" I nodded, and he sighed. "I'm glad for them."

"You don't sound it," I noted. If he had a problem with my sister, he was going down. I wasn't afraid to smack around an old man.

"It's nothing against the girl," he said quickly. "It's just... my grandaughter, Helga."

Quicker than usual, the hamster did a full lap, and I said, "Ah. I'm sorry, I was-"

"You didn't know," he waved me off. "And she's not dead."

I swallowed nervously. I felt I was swimming in choppy waters, covered in blood, with sharks trailing me. Fighting villains, solving crimes, that was all simple. I could handle that part with my eyes blindfolded.

This? Personal problems that probably couldn't be solved with hilariously brutal violence? I didn't know if I could handle that.

"Would you mind talking about it?"

He shook his head. "She had a fight with her dad around July, and she ran off to my house. No one knows where she is, she was last seen leaving the apartment in Queens."

Oh thank god, I _could_ solve this with violence.

"I see," I said, trying not to seem too chipper. "What did you say her name was?"

"Helga. Helga Norheim." He said, through a choked up voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you have a picture?" He handed me a piece of paper from his pocket. A pretty girl with black hair and green eyes was there. "Thanks, I'll be back as soon as possible."

"What are you going to do?" he asked me.

"'Tis the season," I grinned, and it might have been slightly feral. "Let's make you a Christmas miracle."

I walked inside with purpose, and immidiately dodge a thrown beer bottle.

Christ, these parties.

After explaining the situation quickly to May and Ben, patting Laura on the head, and leaving their presents under the big tree in the living room, I snuck out.

I left my "Dear Santa: I blame my sister" sweater and my illusion ring on my bed, changed into my Spider Suit (belt and sticks fully restocked), grabbed an extra-large backpack full of presents I'd been meaning to deliver once it was socially acceptable to leave the party, and ran off to the city, picture in my pocket.

* * *

"Hm," James inspected the picture. "Never seen her."

"Damn," I took the picture back once he took a photo with his phone. "You mind asking around?"

"Already on it," he said, tapping his phone. "So, you don't take the holidays off or something?"

"Well, that, and I wanted to give you this," I said, handing him a heavy box covered in wrapping paper.

"Aw, thank you!" he said, going to open it.

"Dude, don't!" I said. "There's like five kilos of weed and cookies in there! It's for you and the rest of the Trio."

He gaped at his present. "Wait, cookies? Like your mom's triple chip fudge cookies?"

"Actually, those are double chip. A different friend got all the triple chip."

"Aw," he said, disappointed, before shrugging. "Still, thanks man!"

"Least I could do after all you guys helped me," I handed him a few more presents. "Those are for the rest of the informants, if you don't mind spreading them?"

"No problem," he said, letting me pile up the presents on his arms. "Good luck finding your girl, Spider."

"Thanks, James."

I swung away.

* * *

"You guys really need to improve your security," I mentioned as I passed by the Fantastic Four's living room, where they all watched some classic Christmas flicks. "Oh, no, don't get up on my account, I'm just here to leave some presents. Merry Christmas, and happy Hannukah to you, Ben!"

I walked out the window, just in time to hear Ben say, "How does he know I'm Jewish?"

* * *

I didn't bother testing the defenses of Strange's house, I just left his and Wong's presents at the door and rang the bell before leaving.

* * *

"Psst, Stark!"

"JESUS!" He turned around and found me, standing upside-down on his ceiling and pointing a finger gun at him. "Dammit, we should have never let Romanoff near you."

"I dunno, I kinda like how it turned out," I said, tossing him a smaller plastic bag from the extra-large backpack I'd been carrying my presents in. "I liked the lasers on the vents, by the way. It was a nice touch to your security."

"How'd you get in?" he asked, looking into the tinier bag.

"The girl at the front desk was playing Solitaire and nobody in the building looked up."

He sighed, before pulling up an envelope with his name written in sharpie on it. "What's this?"

"Your present: the location of every HYDRA scientist copying your tech right now," I smiled as his jaw dropped. "Anyway, everyone else's presents are in the bag, so I'll let you hand them out."

He turned to look up from his present, but I was already gone.

I was still chuckling to myself as I swung away, bag over my shoulder like I was Father Christmas.

' _Okay, how am I going to do this?_ ' I did a backflip in the air as I thought, the motions keeping me hot even as the snow fell and the cold winds hit me. ' _I'll hit up the seedy bars, maybe stop by and give some Hanukah well-wishes to Shocker while I interrogate him, and see what I stumble into?_ '

I wasn't sure, but some magical horseshit was probably involved. The name Helga Norheim made me think something, but I wasn't sure what.

Suddenly, a green light flashed on a rooftop. I changed directions mid-swing, and crashed into it feet first, ready to fight.

"Whoa! Easy there!" a teenager that looked around my age, wearing a dark green fur-lined coat, some bright green armor and golden horns.

Wait, golden horns?

"Before you attack, allow me to introduce myself. I am-"

"Loki, God of Mischief," I interrupted. "It's nice to meet you. I'm a big fan."

"Huh?" he blinked. "Uh, yes, of course it is."

He shook his head. Somehow, the horns didn't fall off. "I'm sorry, how did you recognize me? And you said you're a big fan?"

"Well, the horns, first of all," I said, making a curling motion with my fingers in front of my forehead.

He sighed, smacking a hand into his face, and I shrugged with sympathy. Nobody had seen Loki for months, and the last time he was seen, he was a rather attractive lady, so he must have been hoping to mantain anonymity for a while.

I continued, "And yeah, I like your style."

"Well, yes, of course you do!" He preened like a bird, puffing his chest out. "If I weren't the God of Mischief, I'd be the God of Style!"

"I'm sure," I said, laughing slightly and letting go of my grip on my batons.

This looked like Teen Loki, or rather, the version that worked as an Agent of Asgard. This meant he was on the side of angels, if a bit insecure about it. Or would it be on the side of Valkyries? The side of Norns? I should brush up on Norse Mythology.

"So, let's see if I can guess what's happening," I said.

"Oh, be my guest," he smirked.

"After some possibly slightly-suicidal magical shenanigans, you turned into a teenaged version of yourself, as that seems like the kind of bullshit that happens with magic." His jaw dropped. "Now, seeing as how you were going to say something that wouldn't make me attack you, despite your rather dismal reputation, I'd guess that you're trying to clean your slate, probably by working as an agent for some higher Asgardian authority, and you're on a mission that crosses with my own, and maybe is the same. That is to say, you want to find Helga Norheim"

He blinked. I blinked back.

"Am I in the ballpark, or...?"

"You are one of the strangest mortals I've had the pleasure of meeting," he informed me, a grin appearing on his face. "You are indeed correct, I am looking for the one called Helga Norheim."

"So magical bullcrap _is_ involved," I frowned. Dammit, who the hell was Helga Norheim? "I just know I know her."

"My intel says she's related to someone in your neighborhood, maybe that's it?" Loki said.

"Doubt it, I don't know shit about the people in my neighborhood," I said, walking over to the edge and gesturing for Loki to follow. "I'm like the opposite of Mr. Rogers."

"Hm," Loki watched me as I shot a web. "I'll follow you on my own, since it seems you have a plan."

"I mean, I could just carry you," I offered, stretching an arm towards him.

Loki raised an eyebrow, before he smirked, sauntered over, and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Why, Mr. Man~ How daring of you to offer just like that."

"Please, Mr. Man was my father," I deadpanned, wrapping my free arm around his waist. "Call me Spidey."

Before he could make some smartass comment, I leaped, and he whooped with excitement right in my ear.

* * *

"Sorry man, never seen her," Shocker, or rather, Herman as he was out of his suit, told me. "Who is she?"

"Missing girl, trying to help her get home." I shrugged. "Usual holiday stuff."

"Right," he nodded his head at the temple. "My family's waiting, so if you don't mind..."

"Not at all. Have a nice Hannukah, Herman." I put the picture back in my pocket.

"And a Merry Christmas to you, Spider," he waved me off, and we walked away from each other. I didn't buy a present for Herman, I just left him a message on the last bank he robbed that he was getting that one as a freebie because of the holiday season. Banks were insured anyways.

"No luck?" Loki asked. I shook my head. "Figured as much. Damn."

"Yeah," I crossed my arms. "I'm running out of ideas. Most thugs aren't at the usual spots, on account of the Truce."

"The Truce?"

"Nobody fucks around until the Holidays are over, and I don't put them in the hospital," I shrugged. "I proposed it to a few crime lords, and they liked the idea."

"And when did this girl go missing?"

"A long time before the Truce started, but between the last time she was seen and now, I dismantled so many crime families, it would have been impossible for _all_ _of them_ to keep her locked up."

"Then maybe she's on some street somewhere?" Loki suggested. "Maybe she's living homelessly, for some reason."

I almost asked why she wouldn't go home, but I remembered what the old man had said. 'A fight with her father'. Who knew how bad that got? And if she got kidnapped by some thugs in the middle?I

"I was planning on passing by some homeless shelters anyways," I sighed, grabbing Loki again, who didn't seem bothered by the gesture.

Some swinging later, we were talking to a nice lady volunteering at a homeless shelter in Queens that I helped out once when some thugs tried to make a mess.

"Never seen her, sorry," she said, putting away the cans of food and blankets I gave her from my backpack. I was carrying a lot, but there were a few stops left to make. "I'll keep an eye out and give you a call if I find out anything."

"Thanks, Marie," I said.

As we walked out, Loki looked at me. "You don't know the people in your own neighborhood, but you know some random volunteer lady?"

"The people in my neighborhood don't give me tips when they stumble into some criminal activities," I said. Come to think of it, my web of informants was getting pretty big. Was it becoming a spy network?

I hoped not. Those things always got infiltrated. I'd have to get spies on my spy network, and spies on my spy network's spy network.

"Ah, naturally," Loki sighed, and scratched his head. "Can I see Helga's picture again?"

I handed it over, and he nodded. "You know, it's been bothering me since you said she looked familiar, but she really does remind me of someone as well. Maybe we should ask the magical community?"

"I don't have a lot of ties there, so you'd have to-" I stopped. "Wait, she reminds you of someone?"

"Um, yes?"

"Who the fuck would we both know?" I asked, frowning. "That doesn't make any sense."

Again, that annoying feeling of having a solution staring me right in the face reappeared. The hamster in my head rushed the wheel at full speed.

Old man told me a lot about his missing granddaughter.

The grandaughter's name is Helga Norheim, she has black hair and green eyes.

Loki and I both recognize her, but can't remember from where.

I tapped my forehead. "I just got it on the tip of my-"

I looked at Loki.

I looked at Loki's green eyes and black hair.

I grabbed the picture from his hand, looked at Helga, then back at him, then back at the picture.

I tossed the picture, walked to a wall, and started hitting my face against it. "I! AM! SO! STUPID!"

"Whoa! What? Did you figure it out?" Loki rushed over and pulled me away from the wall.

I grabbed him by the shoulders. "Loki, where does the name Norheim come from?"

"Well, it sounds Norweigan to me, why?"

"Can you think of anyone you know whose name sounds like Helga?"

Loki frowned, and then I could practically see the lightbulb turn on over his head.

"Hela." He whispered.

"Hela." I nodded in agreement.

We slammed our hands against our respective faces.

"How the hell did it take us so long to figure it out?" he groaned.

"We're very stupid people, it appears."

* * *

It was a trivial matter for Loki to whip up a spell to track down someone he was related to. We followed the trail to a warehouse where five people wearing red robes stood in a circle around the girl from the picture, though she wore battle armor and was chained at the wrists and ankles.

"I'LL TEAR YOU ALL APART! I'LL REND YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!" Hela screamed.

"A little more, and the goddess of death's power will be completely ours!" one of the robed guys, some asshole with golden decorations on his hood, said. "Then, we will decide who lives and who-"

I caught him by the chest with a web, pulled him towards me, and knocked him the fuck out with a punch.

Everyone turned to look at Loki and I as we entered through the skylight, although Hela collapsed in a tired heap. I was holding the leader by the neck of his robe, and Loki was holding a red sword.

"You all have five seconds to run for your health," I said, slowly dropping with a web.

The robed figures ran. They weren't fast enough.

Once the violence was through, I looked at Loki, who was helping Hela stand up. It was a bit odd to think of her as his daughter, since she looked like a young adult, and he looked my age.

I spoke up. "So, the old guy that contacted me was totally Odin, right?"

"Probably," Loki shrugged. "Which is kind of weird, since he's been on some sort of pilgrimage for years now."

"Huh," I turned to look at Hela. She looked weak, but she mantained a dignified air about her. "It's good to see you are well, Godess Hela."

She smirked, though it was slightly strained. "And it's good to see some mortals retained their manners."

"I won't tell anyone of what happened here, if you don't want me to," I offered.

"I'd... apreciate that, noble warrior," she nodded her head. I got the impression her pride was hurt, but she wasn't going to spit on my face just like that. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"My true name is a secret, though I am known as Spider-Man."

She lifted my mask up to my nose, and planted a kiss on my lips. Honestly, I kinda saw it coming, and it was pretty nice, though her lips tasted like blood. "Hela will remember the help you've given, Man of Spiders."

She vanished in a flash of green light.

Loki was giving me a sour look, and I cleared my throat awkwardly. "She's got your sense of theatrics?"

He snorted, and walked over, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I'd rather you didn't kiss my daughter in front of me ever again, but I appreciate your help in saving her. Odin only knows what could have happened if these lunatics had succeeded."

He tightened his grip on my shoulder, and I wondered if he was about to threaten me.

Instead, he pulled me forward and kissed me. His lips tasted like strawberry.

"I won't forget your help either, Man of Spiders," he winked, and vanished in a flash of light.

I stood there, like a blushing idiot, with my mask still raised.

' _Welp,_ ' I thought. ' _That cleansed my palate._ '

I made it back home to open my presents.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **And that's that! Finally through with the "Christmas Fun" arc. Surprisingly early, too.**

 **Next arc is titled "Visiting Jersey". I'll be introducing a lot of characters.**

 **PS: Could someone explain to me how you make those polls on the user page? After this arc, I'd like to make one.**


	23. Escalation and Relocation

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Did you know that with this chapter we've reached 100k words?  
**

 **And I'm not even getting fucking paid.**

* * *

 **Chapter #20: Escalation and Relocation**

* * *

"Hm," I said. "I'm starting to believe I didn't think this through."

I was on foot in a car chase. I was waving in the wind like a fucking flag, stuck to one of the cop cars just by a single web line. The guy escaping the cops was a Cape called Overdrive, who I vaguely recalled had the power to enhance vehilces, as showed by the flaming monster truck he was currently riding. A few cops had tried shooting me, and while none of them hurt me, there was a hole in the hood of my costume. I was also late for school.

"Yeah, definitely could have used some more planning on this," I admitted, climbing up the web line and sticking to the roof of the cop car. The cops shouted some very rude comments to me, but I ignored them in favour of jumping onto the next car, again and again until I was near the front of the stage.

I almost went to close one eye before I realized the stupidity, and I just focused. "Okay, got to aim... this... _right!_ "

I shot a web, and it stuck to one of the few outside parts of the monster truck that wasn't burning. With a victorious laugh, I started climbing my line.

Now, here's some context for all you boys, girls, and more at home. After the Laura Road Trip (as we dubbed it in the Parker Household), the Daily Bugle started talking about all those cars I stole, all those pockets I picked, and that one anti-mutant rally I fucked up. They called it "a corrupting crime spree" and me "a dangerous lunatic and a menace to men and women of every age".

I was bizarrely proud of those titles, and I tried to print the online article to have it framed in my new room, but May and Ben forbid anything related to the Daily Bugle near their home.

The point is, my already shaky reputation took a nosedive, and now police officers actively gunned for me.

"I'm going to shoot at them," one of the cops that wasn't driving told his partner, opening the window and leaning an arm out. "We either hit Spider-Man or Overdrive, it's a win-win."

Pun fully intended, of course.

I looked around. If he shot, the odds were that the bullet was going to go wide and hit a civilian, but of course, they were cops, so they didn't give a shit.

Without looking, I shot a web at the gun before he could fire, and I pulled it out of his grip and into mine. I crushed it just by tightening my grip, let it fall, and climbed the rest of the way to the truck.

"So, how'd that work out for you?" the shooter's partener asked.

"Shut up."

I finally made it up to the monster truck. Except for a few loose spots and the windows, the whole thing was on fire, so I stood on the back window, stuck two web lines on it, jumped away, and slingshot myself back inside the car.

I took a breath and let it out in a long groan, while Overdrive whipped his head around, switching betweem looking at the road and staring at me.

I kept groaning, mostly for comical effect, as I rolled my neck and stretched my arms.

Finally, I settled down and relaxed.

"Hey," I said.

"Um, hi?"

"Nice truck you've got here."

"Thanks."

"Yeah," I made a show of looking around. "I don't mean to alarm you, but it appears to be slightly on fire."

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, eyes glued forward. "It's on purpose."

"I see," I moved to the front and sat opposite to him. "I'm Spider-Man, by the way."

"I know," he said, and I could _feel_ his wince. "S-sorry, it's just... I'm a big fan, and I'm a little scared because you're, y'know, this big scary spider-ninja."

"Ah, don't worry about it," I put my feet up on the deck. "Overdrive, right? It's nice to finally meet you."

"You heard of me?" he said, like I just told him he won the lottery.

"Sure." I shrugged. "I'm Spider-Man, I know everything."

I didn't, but I wanted the rumors to start.

"Oh, come on," he scoffed.

"You got your power because some wannabe crimelord gave you nanomachines, you used to be a racetrack driver, and you agreed to the deal because you secretly want to be a hero," I rattled off. Honestly, it was just stuff I remembered from that one comic, Superior Foes of Spider-Man, but the important part was getting the right reaction.

"Holy shit," he whispered. Bingo.

"Right," I nodded. "So, tell you what: you give me information on the guy that gave you those nanomachines, and I talk to some contacts of mine so you can be a hero. Sound good?"

He pulled over so fast he almost crashed the car.

* * *

"Ah, Mister Fletcher," Mrs. Green, the math teacher, greeted me when I rushed into the classroom. "Getting a late start on the- oh dear Lord, what happened to your face?"

"Hm?" for a panic-filled second, I wondered if I forgot to put on the illusion ring, but I felt it on my middle finger when I brushed it with my thumb. "What are you talking about?"

"There's a scar on your face!"

I blinked. I'd completely forgotten about that. "Oh, that! Yeah, I fought the floor and the floor won."

"He means he tripped!" Peter shouted from the back.

"Sounds cooler when it's a Clash reference," I grumbled as I walked over and sat next to Peter.

Mrs. Green shook her head and kept going, and I leaned over to whisper at my friend, "What'd I miss?"

"Two whole assigments, I'll pass them later."

I gave him a thumbs up and pretended to focus on the class. Under the table, I pulled out the notebook where I kept my notes on the New York underworld and opened the latest page.

Overdrive told me he'd been given the nanomachines by some douche calling himself Mr. Negative. I couldn't remember much from the comics, except that he debuted sometime after Brand New Day (may the comic book gods forgive me for invoking the name) and had a cool design. I couldn't even remember his powers.

Overdrive said that he was, as said by the charming Mr. Negative, 'a pawn in expanding his organization into New York City'. That meant three things:

1) Negative already had a whole-ass criminal organization set and ready to go somewhere near New York.

2) He was a Guy With A Plan, never something good to face.

3) This was going to have me distracted all day.

Which it did, so I had basically no notes by the time Lunch rolled around.

* * *

"So, I asked around," Gwen said, sitting down next to Peter while Flash sat next to me. "And pretty much half the school thinks you're in a gang or something."

"Huh," I said, through a mouthfull of shitty spaghetti. "Who'd you ask?"

"My other friends?" Flash, Peter and I all gave her confused looks, and she rolled her eyes. "Just because you all have no social life outside this circle doesn't mean I don't either! I have a life and shit! I play in a band!"

"You play in a band?" I swallowed my mouthful of pasta. "Dude! When do you play? Can I go?"

"You want to go to a concert?" Peter asked. "You hate loud people and closed spaces full of them."

"Yeah, but there's _booze_ at concerts," I said. "I can just get drunk off my ass and everyone will be more likeable."

"Well, we don't play much," Gwen said, ears turning a bit red, "But Betty thinks she can get us a gig at this club called 'The Bar'. You ever hear of it?"

The Bar used to be a simple hole-in-the-wall beloved by criminals due to the staff's policy of discretion, known only as The Bar Without a Name. Eventually, the amount of blood money spent on it allowed the owner to expand it into a night club. The clientel was still mostly villains, but now they came in out of costume. It was a good place to find work, organize heists, launder money, get shit-faced, and (according to Electro) get laid.

I'd been five times just that month alone, moving undercover as just another civilian looking for fun. Thanks to it, I'd foiled thirty-two different heists and one team-up between Electro and Stilt-Man that would have been surprisingly succesful if their plan had gone off without a hitch. It was without a doubt, a festering hole full of the criminal scum of the city.

"Yeah, it's a nice place. Some of the guys from my gang go there." I said, giving the blonde a meaningful look.

Gwen's eyes widened, and she nodded. She got the message.

"Right, I'll tell Betty it's got the gangster's seal of approval."

Or maybe not.

I'd text her about it later, I just wanted to finish-

[Twelve drones, sailing through the air towards us]

-dammit.

"Something wrong, Jake?" Flash asked.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I left the fork on my plate, and power-walked away.

On the way, I recovered my bag from my locker. As casually as possible, I pulled a fire alarm without breaking stride towards the bathroom and marched into an empty stall. I changed into my super suit, and waited while I heard the students and faculty leave the building, complaining about the sprinklers that went off with the alarm.

' _I mean, maybe it's just one of those stupid drone races,_ ' I thought, trying to be optimistic. ' _Maybe there's not some kind of coordinated attack-_ '

[The top part of the drones opening up, and several rockets sailing towards the school even as the drones kept approaching]

God dammit.

I smashed through out of the stall, and ran through the empty hallways, using my clinging powers not to slip on the wet tile. I whipped my head around, trying to hear or feel anyone still inside the school.

[Dude, should we go?]

[Nah, some asshole just pulled the alarm to be funny]

 _There_.

The doors would have taken me too long, so I just smashed through several walls and one floor until I smashed through the door of the workshop classroom, where students were encouraged to dick around with wood and saws and make shitty sculptures out of plywood.

In there, I found two idiots sniffing glue, holding a tarp to avoid the sprinklers.

"Whoa," one of them said, gaping at me. "That's a _boss_ Spider-Man cosplay."

I just sighed, stuck two webs to one of the nearest metal tables, pulled it over to hold it as a shield facing away from the two drugged-up idiots, and waited.

The rockets impacted the front of the school, immidiately destroying the walls with loud explosions I felt reverberate through the school and my bones. The front of the school collapsed, and the druggies looked around, scared. "What was that?!"

"Stay down!" I shouted back, and they did, hands covering their head. The sprinklers were still going. "I'm here, there's nothing to be scared of."

The front walls finally finished falling, and more rockets sailed into the school and destroyed more of the school.

The workshop was around the back of the school. Our part of the school only got the last three missiles.

I had a brief second of thought I saw a rocket crash into the wall _right next_ to where there wasn't a door anymore.

' _That was lu_ _-_ '

* * *

"Oh shit," Peter whispered, looking at the armed drones as the sound of the final explosion finally ended. "I think I left the stove on."

" _That's_ what you're worried about?" Gwen asked him. "I left my homework!"

"We left our friend, you dicks!" Flash shouted. "Jake was still in there!"

Gwen and Peter exchanged a quick look, before wordlessly agreeing to play along. They weren't really worried for him, but it'd be pretty suspicious to Flash.

"SHIT!" They screamed in unison.

Slowly, the drones drifted over. The one at the front was painted black with green lines, while the rest were plain white. They had cubical bodies, with two 'wings' coming out of the sides.

A robotic voice blared from the one at the front. " **SURVIVING** **STUDENTS** **LOCATED** **.** **COMMENZING** **ELIMINATION** **.** "

The top of the drones closed as the rocket launchers folded back in, and the bottoms of the sides opened and twin miniguns unfolded from there.

Before the first shot could ring out, the half-melted remains of a steel table sailed at incredible speed and smashed through three different drones. The students and machines all turned to see Spider-Man, with two known druggies hanging from his shoulder, flipping off the drones.

"I don't know who's operating these, but whoever's there? I want you to know you just gained a very special place in my shit list." He said to the drones.

" **SPIDER-MAN** **LOCATED. COMENCING ELIMINATION.**"

The hero jumped away from the bullets, gently left the students on the ground next to the gathered students, and jumped forward, shotting a web to the side, catching a large chunk of concrete, and swung it around, smashing through three drones.

"Yeah, Spider-Man!" Flash cheered. "Fuck 'em up!"

"Why are you all still here?!" Spider-Man shouted back, jumping high and pulling a drone down with a web line to kick it to pieces. He threw the chunks at one other drone's wings, which got stuck and sent the careering into the ground. "Go somewhere safer!"

The group started walking away, but Flash stuck back.

He saw Spider-Man move so fast that his eyes almost couldn't follow, as he caught a drone with his webs without looking, tossed it into another drone, bound them together with more webs, and used them as an improvised flail against another two drones, leaving the four things torn to pieces.

There were only three drones left, the black one that'd spoken before among them.

"Awesome," Flash whispered. The whole time, bullets had rained down around the Spider-Man. But the Cape had simply danced around the gunfire, moving with supernatural grace.

"Flash, come on!" Peter hissed.

Flash waved him away, while Spider-Man caught the last two white drones with a web line each, and smashed them together.

"Easy, peasy," Spider-Man said, wiping his hands against each other as he turned to look at the black drone. "So, you're the one that's been manually controlled?"

" **Well, you're not as stupid as you look, at least** **,** " The drone buzzed, sounding more human than it previously did.

"Thanks," Spider-Man drawled, sounding unimpressed with the mysterious villain's manners. "You got a name?"

" **My name isn't important** **;** **my mission, on the other hand, very much is** **.** "

"Oh, well, if you want to monologue at me..."

" **Nothing so bland** **. I merely wished to thank you for making it so easy to locate you.**" A brief, wheezy laugh came through the drone. " **Had you not called yourself a '16-year-old smartass from Queens'** **, it would have a lot harder to track you down.**"

Flash blinked. Spider-Man was their age?

The Cape had stilled, and when it spoke, it was in a growl. "How did you hear that?"

" **I won't bother explaining my genius to a simpleton like you** **. I made a machine, and it let me hear you from a safe distance.**" The miniguns on the drone closed in, and the bottom opened. Flash couldn't see what came out. " **Now, where were we?** "

Spider-Man jumped away, but what came from the drone was a shockwave of sound that cracked concrete and sent the Spider-Man flying, screaming and clutching his head in pain. It wasn't aimed at Flash, and he still felt like throwing up.

Still, he moved as quietly as possible, grabbed a chunk of debris, and threw it at the drone. It fell with a big dent on its back, and Flash approached it, holding another chunk of school.

"Uh," he said, trying to come up with a good one-liner.. "The debris is mightier than- no, uh, this is the weight of a good edu- no, that's lame."

A web stuck to the chunk of debris, and smashed it into the drone. Flash followed the web with his eyse, and found Spider-Man walking over.

The hero crouched over and examined the destroyed drone. He picked up a small camera, and glared into it, before crushing it in his fist. He stood up and looked at Flash in the eye.

Eugene 'Flash' Thompson was petrified. He was Spider-Man's #1 fan, and now that he was in front of the hero, he couldn't think of anything to say.

Spider-Man looked down, and Flash realized the hero was stretching a hand forward.

"Oh!" Flash shook the hero's hand, trying to impress him with a firm grip.

Spider-Man nodded approvingly (squee!) and started walking away.

"Wait!" the hero turned around, and Flash swallowed. "My friend, Jake, he didn't come out of the building."

The hero looked towards the debris, and nodded. Then he pointed at the group of students, which was still walking away.

"Right, I'll go," Flash smiled. "It's great to meet you, by the way. I'm a huge fan."

Oh god, why'd he say that?

Spider-Man tilted his head, but he seemed amused. Flash blushed, and rushed away.

* * *

Well, that was embarrassing.

' _Damn sonic weapons,_ ' I thought, searching through the rubble for my school bag. Once I found it, slightly torn and with all my civilian clothes covered in dust, I grinned. ' _Perfect._ '

I changed into them away from public eye, dropped the last bit of unharmed wall on myself, and climbed out.

"Ow," I groaned, but limped away to where the students had been. Hopefully, I looked like I'd been in an exploded building.

After some teachers thanking their lucky stars that everyone was there, parents were called and we got sent home.

"So, what now?" Ben asked, once the Parker family had gathered in the living room. Laura was carefully applying a bandaid to my finger, where I had a hangnail. I told her she shouldn't bother, but it had little cartoon dinosaurs on it, so I let her do whatever.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if this is related to Mr. Negative," I said, scratching my little sister's head, while she tried to look serious as we talked. "I'll ask around the network, see what I can pull up."

"That's good," May nodded. "Ben and I will see what we can do about school, so you two won't have to repeat the semester after they fix the school."

"I'll start working on improving the web formula," Peter said. "I think I can make some changes to the Web Bombs, make them tougher and stuff."

"I'll help Peter at the lab," Laura chimed in, rushing to get her miniature labcoat.

I smirked in satisfaction. I had this shit in the bag.

* * *

"What do you mean, nobody knows about the guy?" I asked James.

"Exactly that," he shrugged. "The only thing I could find is that he's based in New Jersey. It's out of my jurisdiction."

"Out of your- Jersey isn't exactly in Europe, James!" I pointed out.

"You think I talk to people from Jersey?"

...

"You got me there," I admitted. "Fuck."

"Yeah," James nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette.

We were meeting on the roof of his bar. Duke was covering for him.

Or maybe he worked with him? I seriously had no idea what Duke did for a living.

"So, what now, boss?" James asked.

I shrugged. "I can't let this asshole just come over and do as he pleases, but I need to get near him to put him down."

"You mean...?"

"Yeah," I said. "I need to go to New Jersey."

James patted my arm comformingly.

* * *

Peter and I had been treating the whole blown-up-school thing like an extension to our holidays, and had been playing Poker in the living room when May and Ben arrived victorious from dealing with the school board.

"The students will be sent to different schools," Ben explained. "As it happens, the one Jake's going to is in New Jersey."

"How'd you manage that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Thanks to the money from the Spider-Man copyright and May's own stubbroness, it was a breeze."

Said stubborn old lady smacked his arm.

"Problem is, we only got so far," she continued. "Petey's headed for a different school here in Queens."

"That's fine," I said, feeling very much not-fine. "I can manage on my own."

"I'll still help you out," Peter complained. "I'm going to make you a bunch of Web Bombs and cartridges so you don't run out when you can't swing back for more."

"Good thinking," Ben said. "By the way, Jake. The school board asked us to mention to you that other schools might not be so lenient on you 'wanton violence'."

"Wanton means 'without purpose'." I pointed out. "I always have a reason for punching people."

"We said that," May nodded. "And then they kicked us out."

Ah, family. Truly, life's greatest treasure.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **And thus, it begins. I think I said that before?**

 **By the way, thanks to everyone for explaining the poll thingie. I might make one later, if there's something I need your help deciding.**

 **On another note, due to a friend's advice, I'll try my hand at having a steady update schedule. I'll write a few chapters (three or so) and release them late Friday or very early Saturday (Buenos Aires time) one at a time.**

 **Also, to people following the Mass Effect story, I think I'm going to focus on this one first, before tackling that one.**

 **Thanks for reading, and please leave a Review.**


	24. John Mulaney Reference

**Chapter #21: John Mulaney Reference  
**

* * *

All things considered, Kamala Khan was having a pretty great morning.

Bruno had put aside an extra-large cup of coffee for her, to make up for the late night hero-ing she'd done, Nakia had found herself in a rare good mood and hadn't snarked at her once yet, and the bacon smelt delicious.

"You know guys," she said, sipping her foam cup and smelling the delicious infidel meat. "Sometimes, life is good."

"Well, that's about to end," Bruno said, looking out the glass door. "Here comes everyone's favourite 'concerned citizen'."

Zoe Zimmer walked in, her boyfriend Josh in tow. Zoe and Josh were what one would call the ideal American couple, if they were a racist rich white male. Both blonde, both wealthy, and both _oh so concerned_ about the minorities.

Behind them, there was someone Kamala didn't recognize. Another white boy, he was taller than Josh -which she estimated put him somewhere around six feet something. He had brown hair in an undercut, and blue eyes behind a pair of square glasses. The bags under his eyes were so dark he looked like he'd gotten punched in the face twice.

He was frowning, which put him in contrast to Josh and Zoe's easygoing smiles. There was a scar that went in a half-circle around his left eye, going through his eyebrow, and he generally looked like a punk-rock kid, with his leather jacket.

"Hi, Zoe," Bruno said. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm not with them," the new kid quickly said. "I'm just here for coffee."

He walked away to the coffee machine, and Zoe started to talk about how Bruno should get her her coffee since she was so nice as to tip him and help his economic situation. Bruno tried to explain that's not how it worked in Circle Q, but she just talked over him. Honestly, Kamala would have liked Zoe better if she were a little less thickheaded. She showed concern for people, which was nice, but the way she did it...

"By the way, your headscarf is so nice, Kiki," Zoe said. "I love the color."

"Nakia," Kamala's friend corrected. "And thanks, I guess."

"But, like, you're not being forced to wear that, right? They're not going to honor-kill you or something if you take it off? I'm just concerned."

... it left much to be desired.

Nakia went to say something, but the new kid spoke up. "Can I ask you something?"

They turned to look at him, and he cleared his throat as he walked over to the counter with a bag of gummy worms and a foam cup of cheap coffee. "I meant the rich white girl. Yeah, you. Can I ask you something?"

"Um, sure?" She looked a little weirded out.

"If you see someone wearing, say, a crucifix, do you ask them if their parents are forcing them to wear it or else they get stuck in the basement?" He took a sip of his coffee. It was a bit loud and slurpy.

"What? No, why would I do that?" Zoe said.

"I mean, you asked her if she'd get... what was it, honor-killed?" Nakia, who was starting to grin at the new guy, nodded. "Right, honor-killed if she didn't wear her hiyab."

"But that's different!"

"Why?"

"Because they-" Zoe closed her mouth, and tried again. "I mean, because Catholics don't punish people for not wearing crosses!"

"Don't they?" New Kid blinked. "That's weird, you mean to tell me _no_ Catholics ever punished their children for not comforming to their fate? _None whatsoever_?"

"Not every Catholic is like that!"

"But every Muslim is?"

Zoe's mouth snapped closed. The new kid slowly and loudly sipped his coffee.

Zoe stormed off without her coffee, Josh in tow.

"Hm, not the debating type, that one." The new kid turned to look at Bruno, who was smiling at him. "How much do I owe you?"

"Coffee's on the house. Gummy worms are $4,95."

While the new kid paid with a ten-dollar bill that had a weird brown stain on the edge, Nakia spoke up. "I didn't need your help."

"I didn't think you did. You probably have more practice with her bullshit than I do." He grabbed his change and shrugged. "But I figured, hey! What the fuck, right?"

"Hm," Nakia was smirking. "I'm Nakia Bahadir."

"I'm Kamala," she said, waving a little.

"And I'm Bruno. Thanks for dealing with the Concern Troll."

The new kid blinked, before shrugging and giving them a titled grin. "Nice to meet you all. Name's Jake."

* * *

Holy shit, did I fucking stumble into _Kamala Khan_ 's cornerstore? Maybe late night hero-ing to make up for all the time I wouldn't be home was a good idea after all.

She was one of my favourite heroes, so I'd tried looking her up, but she didn't pop up anywhere. I just figured she'd be part of the next generation of heroes, or the one after that.

' _Holy shit, I might be in the Avengers with Ms. Marvel!_ ' I thought, finishing my gummy worms and crossing a street, ignoring the blaring horns of cars that dodged me. ' _Assuming I become an Avenger, of course._ '

I looked at the grey building I'd be staying at until Midtown got fixed. Coles Academic High School.

' _I wonder why they felt the need to add "Academic" to the name. It's a high school, of course it's academic._ ' I walked in and walked around, avoiding coming in contact with anyone. ' _Well, let's see my priorities: I have to find out where Mr. Negative is and what he's doing, I have to find how the drones relate to everything, assuming they do, and I have to avoid repeating a semester._ '

I got my schedule and locker combination at the principal's office, still scheming.

' _How am I going to do all_ _that?_ ' I put away my bag and books. ' _I guess I can poke around for a bit, try and get a hold of the Jersey underworld. That should eventually lead me to him. As for the semester, I just have to focus and not get in-_ '

A small kid with glasses slammed into a locker next to my own.

' _... trouble. Shit._ '

"Listen, nerd, I'm going to make this simple for you," some jock in a letterman jacket said. "I own you now. You're going to do my homework, you're going to get me answers to all the tests, and-"

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?" He turned and paled when he saw me and my friendly smile. Well, he definitely knew me, that's for sure. "Oh, I know, you're from Midtown too!"

"Uh," he slowly backed away, looking around nervously. Students, like sharks smelling blood on the water, started forming a circle around us as the bully suddenly looked a lot more nervous. "Look man, I was just-"

"Being a bully," I stopped him, and he froze. "Yeah, I saw. And, tell me, do you remember what happened to people I caught bullying in Midtown?"

He swallowed and nodded.

"Good," I dropped the friendly smile and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt. "Cut that shit out or I'll tear your life a new asshole. Am I clear?"

He nodded again, more frantically.

"Awesome!" I smiled again, and patted his cheek. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

He ran off, the students parting to make way, and I chuckled as I watched him. "Hm, classic."

I turned and looked at the small nerd. "You okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm great," he looked scared. Hm, a bit too heavy-handed if I scared the bullied too.

"Sorry about him," I said, nodding in the direction the bully let. "I thought I had them trained better."

"I-it's okay," the nerd got up and inched away nervously. "Look, I've got to go!"

He ran away, and the crowd dispersed, with a few shooting me odd looks.

[He's scary]

[Do you think he's in a gang or something?]

[Wouldn't surprise me]

[What a weirdo]

[We should keep a distance]

[Yeah, he looks like a shooter in the making]

[Bet he keeps doll heads or something]

You know what's the downside of enhanced senses? You hear every mean little whisper people make when they think you can't hear them.

I closed the locker and went to my first class.

The last bell couldn't ring soon enough.

* * *

I dropped my bag next to the door, and threw myself on the bed on my small little apartment. It was literally just one room, with one of those beds that folded out of the wall. I kept boxes full of clothing next to where the bed folded out to, like an improvised nightstand. Ben and May had paid for it, so I could investigate Jersey on a full schedule. In fact, they'd offered to pay for somewhere nicer, but I liked this apartment enough.

I'd already set up my laptop on top of the boxes, and I'd put up a corkboard when I moved in.

On the corkboard, which I affectionately called my Crime Board, I was planning to put my notes on Mr. Negative's operation.

So far, I had a little plastic flashcard with the name "Mr. Negative" written on it, with "(boss)" under it. I'd stuck it at the top.

A little under and to the far right, there was another card that said "Drone Attack" stuck over a picture taken from the internet of the drones that attacked Midtown.

The two weren't connected by anything in particular that I knew, but that didn't bother me. What _did_ bother me was that I had to build up my connections from zero.

It took me _months_ to take care of Fisk's little reign of terror. Three ears on the ground, beating information out of dealers and pedophiles, and spying in on deals. It was slow, and it'd be damn near painful now that I was used to getting information with a snap of my fingers. G. I. Joe wasn't kidding when they said knowledge is half the battle, if you didn't know which faces to kick in, you were damn near screwed.

' _My main obstacle is that I'm a stranger in a strange_ _land,_ ' I thought. ' _I gave up my home field advantage to cut off the snake's head. Now I have to deal with the consequences._ '

But, if I couldn't have home field advantage, I could get someone that did.

I booted up my laptop, and looked up Ms. Marvel.

"I wonder how Overdrive's doing," I detachedly wondered, clicking away from Carol Danvers results. "I hope he's not too overwhelmed with the work I left him."

* * *

 _"We've got to run, man!" Joseph cried, not realizing his friend was long gone. "We gotta hide, and hide fa-"_

 _Before he could continue, a dreadful rumble pierced the quiet of the night, like the roar of a beast from hell._

 _Joseph turned, and found a sleek blue car staring him down. Through the glare of the headlights, he could see a man wearing a black bike helmet._

 _The car roared. Joesph screamed in fright._

* * *

Ms. Marvel was ready for another night of patrol.

Lately, she'd been stumbling into more and more demon-masked thugs. She was pretty sure they were all members of that Dragon Lords gang she'd been hearing whispers about around school. She wanted to find out more about them, but so far she couldn't figure out any sort of pattern to what they were doing. It was really-

"Ms. Marvel."

Marvel froze on the spot, and whirled around, fists already enbiggened. There was someone standing in the shadows of the roof Kamala had been walking on, with their arms crossed and the back resting against the rooftop access.

Marvel was 96% sure this was a bad guy.

"Before you hit me, I'd like to mention that I'm not a bad guy. I'm just naturally creepy."

... make that 91% sure.

"Who are you?" she said, in her best hero voice.

"If I wanted to be funny, I'd say I'm a concerned citizen," the mystery cape said. "But since I'm not in the mood for all the 'heroes-fighting-heroes' bullshit..."

The mystery cape walked out of the shadows, and Kamala had to work very hard not to boggle.

That was Spider-Man. _The_ Spider-Man.

The guy that everyone found out about when he took out an intricate criminal organization. The guy that the forums said took out crime lords like average people took out waffles. The guy whose fight videos had inspired several challenges based around replicating his stunts. The guy that outdrove an army, and stared down the princess-leader of said army.

 _That_ Spider-Man.

"I take it you know who I am?" he sounded amused. Kamala tried to look stoic. "Well, obviously I know who you are, so let's cut to the chase: one of your crooks is trying to move his organization into my city, and I came to deal with him. I want your help."

"You want my help?" Kamala repeated. "B-but I'm just a newbie! I found I had powers like a month ago!"

"And in that time, you dismantled some weird Matrix-esque techno cult. You also have impressive powers, knowledge of the land that I lack, and people skills," Spider-Man gestured vaguely at the rooftop. "I'm not sure if this whole roof-ambush thing tipped you off, but I'm not exactly filled with that last one."

Yeah, he seemed a bit awkward.

Kamala swallowed. Okay, she had this. She'd teamed up with Wolverine, she could handle Spider-Man, even if it looked like it'd be on a longer term. "Where do we start?"

Somehow, Marvel got the impression Spider-Man was smiling.

* * *

I danced a little in my room, as I got ready to go to school again. I did the twist in my underwear, the smashed potatoes as I put on my pants, and did some disco while I put on a shirt.

' _I'm in a team-up! I'm in a team-up!_ ' I was positively giddy. The last team-up I did was with Johnny, and that was to stop a bank heist, so it only took us like a minute. And frankly, I could use more friends in the Cape community. ' _There should be an app for Capes. Oh, who am I kidding, I wouldn't use it_ _._ '

I quit screwing around long enough to grab my shit and head for school, stopping by Circle Q on the way. Kamala and Nakia weren't there, but Bruno greeted me with a nod of his head while I marched for the sweet second-hand ambrosia that was shitty coffee.

' _Okay, sure, yesterday was a bit rough,_ ' I thought, tossing my foam cup into the trash as I approached the school. ' _But it's a new day. Teens have a million things happen to them every day, I'm sure everyone already forgot about me._ '

I blinked. ' _Wait, these kind of thoughts usually lead to-_ '

My locker had the words 'go home, lunatic' spray-painted on it, and someone had put a cutsie heart sticker under the message.

I sighed. ' _I wonder what would have happened if I'd thought something like "_ fuck me, everyone is going to stare at me as I walk in _". Maybe I'd found I got a complimentary pony? Nah, with my luck, it would have been a mutant flesh-eating hellhorse and I would've had to put it down. Or give it to Blade to ride around in._ '

I left my bag, grabbed the books I needed, and left, using every trick Murdock taught me to tune out the whispers and giggles.

' _Actually, Blade riding around in a hellhorse would be fucking sweet._ '

* * *

My classes was boring like a nail through the forehead for the most part, but something amusing did happen halfway through English.

The teacher was blathering on about the majesty that was 'Paradise Lost', when someone tossed a paper ball at me from my right. I let it hit me, and turned an annoyed glare towards the thrower.

An attractive black girl with curly hair set in a loose ponytail pointed at the paperball. I unfolded it, and found a pretty damn good drawing of myself in my annoyed pose (head resting on right hand, resting bitch face out in full force) and with a thought bubble pointing at me that said 'I wonder if swallowing the book would kill me'.

I snorted, and started doodling on the other side, before I balled it up and tossed it in the girl's direction.

I'd used my extremely meager artistic skils to make a stick-figure version of her, which mostly looked like a regular stick figure except holding a pen and it had a curly ponytail. A speech bubble was coming from it, and it said 'I like to flaunt my art powers!'.

The girl smirked, and she drew something on her side, before tossing it back.

"Miss Jones!" the teacher said, and we both whipped around to look at her. "Did you just toss a paper ball at Mister Fletcher?"

"No," she said.

"I just saw you!" the teacher said.

"Did you?"

"Yes, I did!"

"Then why did you ask?" she pointed out.

"You know, she's got a point there," I said.

"You stay out of it, I'm talking to Miss Jones," the teacher said.

"Well, if she _had_ been throwing papers at me, I think I'd be pretty involved in the event," I said, making sure the hand I had holding a paperball was poorly hidden.

"I see. Well, now I don't think she was bothering you at all." The teacher marched forward and stretched a hand, casting a meaningful at the paper ball.

I gave her a low five.

"I'm asking for the ball, Mister Fletcher," she grounded out. I opened my mouth, eager to jump at the oportunity. "The _paper ball_ , Fletcher."

I pouted, but handed it over.

"Now, let's see what you two were so eager to talk about that you couldn't wait while the rest of the class appreciated John Milton's wit," the teacher said, unfolding the paper ball.

Let me explain how cup tricks work:

You have a few cups -maybe two, maybe more- and the ball is in one. It doesn't matter in which one it is, it matters in which ones the ball _isn't_.

The paperball with the drawings had fallen under my chair. I'd taken a sheet of paper and written on it as quick as I could while the teacher had been focused on Jones, and then I balled it up under the desk while she shouted so she didn't hear the paper crinkle.

The teacher started reading as soon as she could, "You should see me in lingerie."

I gasped, as loud as I could.

"Why I never! I hardly think that's appropiate for a school enviroment." I crossed my legs at the knees and intertwined my fingers, elbows on the table and chin on hands. I fluttered my eyelashes at the teacher, who couldn't be younger than 65. "Of course, if you insist, I won't be in school forever."

The teacher sputtered, and I heard some snickers from the students. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw how Jones was pressing her lips.

"I didn't say that!" the teacher exclaimed.

"Yes you did, I just heard you!" I said, accusingly.

"It wasn't my words, I read it from your paper!"

Oh, she couldn't have given me a better opening if she tried.

"Okay, you caught me," I said, throwing up my hands in a 'what-can-you-do' gesture. "I was working up to asking Jones where I could find a good lingerie store around here. My violet garter belt got a bit torn up, you know how it is, right? You look like a gal that knows how to have fun?"

"I do not!" the teacher said.

"You don't know how to have fun?"

The teacher gave up. "Detention. Go to the library after your classes, you have an hour of detention."

I gave Jones a sideways glance, covered the side of my mouth with a hand, and pointed at the teacher with my thumb. "Definitely doesn't know how to have fun."

"Two days of detention!"

I shrugged. I'd gotten Jones off the hook, after all.

Once the teacher gathered her wits, and the class stopped snickering, she went back to sucking the ghost of John Milton's dick. I reached under the table, and grabbed the ball with all the drawings.

Jones had drawn a stick figure version of myself, jacket and all, and it was saying 'why did nobody tell me punk is dead?!'.

I had to stiffle my laughter. I had work to do, and I couldn't have a whole week of detention. Once I made a crappy drawing of the teacher as a cone of ice-cream with a human face, I slid it on the ground back towards Jones and paid attention.

Who calls John Milton witty, anyways?

* * *

Once the bell rung and students left the classroom, I collected my two detention slips with a saccharine smile, and the teacher glared back. As I walked out, Jones rushed to catch up to me. It surprised me how tall she was, she was just a little under my own height, and I was 6'2'' tall.

"Hey," she nodded at me, mouth set in a straight line. "Thanks for distracting her."

"No problem," I shrugged. "It was fun, anyways."

She smirked a little. "I don't know if you read the message, but punk is dead. Being a teacher's pet is all the rage these days."

"Punk _fashion_ died," I corrected. "Punk never dies."

"Sure," she said, mockingly. She handed me the piece of paper. "Hope you don't mind, but I made an addition to your drawing."

I looked at it. There was a big dog head licking the ice-cream teacher, and it was better drawn than anything I'd ever produced.

"Nice," I complimented. "I think I'm gonna hang it on my wall."

The corner of her mouth twiched up. "What do you have next?"

I looked at my schedule, which I'd resigned to carrying around in my pocket for the rest of eternity, along with two candy wrappers and several assignments I never handed in.

They worked as insulation to keep my hands warm in the pockets, okay? Winter is fucking cold, if you didn't know.

"Study hall, looks like," I shrugged. "I'll probably sleep or read through it, maybe try to get the taste of Satan's daddy issues out of my mouth."

Jones nodded in the opposite direction from the library. "I've got art class, and the teacher's an underpaid art college dropout, so he won't care if you're not supposed to be there. Wanna watch me draw people in crisis?"

"Jones, this feels like the beginning of a very annoying for everyone else friendship," I smiled. "I'm Jake, by the way."

"Michelle," she walked away, and called back, "My friends call me MJ."

... OOOOH! She's the girl from the MCU Spider-Man movie!

Wait, am I flirting with _another_ love interest?

... _naaaaah_. Gwen and MJ were Peter's love interests. Black Cat was Spider-Man's. That's probably why the stuff with Felicia happened. And even so, she wouldn't go for me. Said stuff with Felicia proved it. If anything threatened to blossom, I'd nip it in the bud.

I ran after her, taking out my 'work' phone and texting the number Marvel had given me: _Might be slightly late. Feel free to start the stakeout without me._

She texted back a 'thumbs up' emoji.

Why am I the only one that practices proper grammar in texting? Would I be fine doing this whole thing without easy access to backup like Peter or the rest of the Parker clan? Is anyone else going to learn my fucking identity before this thing is through?

I put the work phone back in my jacket's inside pocket, and I followed Michelle. Questions could wait, I had people to mock.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Fun fact about me: I actually do that thing with the pockets full of paper to keep warm.**

 **Since I live in a small island where it's pretty much Winter 3/4ths of the year, I do it so much that empty pockets just leave me nervous.**

 **Oh, and if you got a problem with the inclusion of Michelle Jones, whatever.**


	25. JUMANJI!

**Chapter #22: JUMANJI!**

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, anything happen while I wasn't here?"

Marvel wordlessly handed me a notepad and her camera, still looking at the workshop across the street through the binoculars I'd bought with some dealer's money. I checked over the pictures and matched them to the notes she took.

It was mostly a parade of civilian cars that went in and got fixed. The exception was the ocassional unmarked white van that went in and left around half an hour later, sometimes a bit more and sometimes less.

"Good work," I said. "Thoughts?"

"I'd say they're using the vans to move merchandise, but I'm not sure," Marvel looked at me. "Couldn't you find out what they sell here?"

I felt a bit of heat creep in my cheeks. "Interrogation is hard when you don't have a local reputation. Sorry."

"No problem," Marvel went back to looking at the workshop. "How do you usually interrogate people?"

"Half the time I don't have to, thanks to informants and such," I shrugged. "When I do, I just take them to the top of a building and dangle them, but that felt rude to do in your territory."

She whipped her head around and stared at me. "YOU _WHAT?!_ "

"SHH!"

We dove behind the cornice, and I focused my senses. The street was mostly empty, with just some drunk puking in the alley under us. Nobody seemed to notice, so we went back to spying over the cornice.

"You can't throw people off of a roof!" Marvel hissed, not taking her eyes away from the workship. "We're supposed to be heroes!"

"I don't th-" I stopped myself. "I don't let them hit the ground! I just scare them!"

"That was very specifically worded," Marvel pointed out. "How many people have you thrown off of roofs?"

I didn't really keep track, but I tried to remember.

"Around five... ish?"

"Five-ish." Marvel didn't seem amused.

"Around that, yeah."

"You can't do that!"

"It's not that bad," I complained. "I just do that to people my informants don't know, and that's mostly homicidal maniacs and pedophiles. Or both, come to think of it."

Marvel turned to try and see if I was joking. I really wasn't. "Dude, what's wrong with your city?"

I shrugged. "It's the New York lifestyle. If you don't like it, you can go back to Philly where you came from."

"We're in Jersey."

"Fuggedaboutit!"

Despite herself, the corner of her mouth quirked up. She forced a stern expression. "Well, we're in _my_ city. No tossing people off of roofs while you're here, understood?"

" _Fine_ ," I relented. "I'll just web them up and hang them upside-down, hope the blood rushing to their heads makes 'em honest."

"Sounds good." We kept working in silence, her taking notes and me taking notes, when she spoke up again. "Do you have any good stories?"

"Cape stories, you mean?"

She shrugged. "I've only been doing this for a while, and you already know the one cool thing I've done."

"You could still tell me, if you like," she shook her head. "No? Right then, anything you wanna hear?"

"Hm," she bit her lip, before she smiled. "Weirdest arrest you've made?"

"I don't know about weirdest, because I regularly fight a guy made of electricity, but the 95-year-old flasher lady has been pretty hard to forget."

She laughed. "No way."

"Yeah," I smirked. "She was shockingly perky, too!"

"Ew!" she stretched her arm and swatted my shoulder. "Don't be gross."

I chuckled.

* * *

A few hours later, we were eating some gyros that Marvel had gone to buy when the workshop closed down.

"Should we leave?" she asked, mouth full.

[Okay, you locked up everything?]

The guy he asked hadn't. The back door was unlocked.

[Yeah, of course]

[Good, then come on, we gotta get the loose parts to Tinkerer]

"Nope," I finished my food, pulled down my mask, hung the binoculars and camera from my utility belt, and gestured for Marvel to follow as I dropped down into an alley as silently as I could. "It seems we get to do some light-hearted Breaking and Entering."

"This really isn't what I thought would happen when I became a Cape," she muttered, but still followed.

"Actually, could you shrink down?" She raised an eyebrow. "It's just that you're costume is bright freaking red and yellow in parts, and we're supposed to be sneaking around. It'd be easier if I carried you in my utility belt or something."

"Yeah, that's fair." She shrunk and climbed onto my shoulder. "I'm not going in your belt, though."

"Fine, go in the hood then," I was already running across the street. It was the middle of the night and in a place where the streetlights were poorly mantained, so I was just a black blur before I was out of sight, crouching in the back of the workshop.

I tried the door, but it was locked.

' _Ah, he didn't forget. It was already locked._ ' I pulled a pair of lockpicks out of my utility belt and went to work. I chuckled, "Thank god for Black Widow's School of Hard Knocks, huh?"

"You studied under Black Widow?" Marvel sounded outraged. Her voice was oddly unchanged despite her size difference, I'd have to ask Peter or Reed about that. "Lucky. I'd give my right arm to train with Captain Marvel."

"Natasha isn't exactly to me what Danvers is to you. She's like a protective older sister that threatens to use nerve gas on me if I'm not careful." The door popped open. "Now, we have to be quiet, okay?"

She nodded, and I slunk in. The back door was connected to the break room, which in turn was connected to the workshop and to a bathroom.

I headed for the workshop and started looking around. I sniffed the air and smirked. There were still a few cars here, but only one had been there for so long that I could smell dust on it. I looked at the little button-remote-thingie that mechanics use to drop a car, and pressed the green 'lift' button.

The floor split open soundlessly, and I smirked as some stairs were revealed.

"How'd you know that was there?" Marvel whispered.

"Super senses." I started walking down to the secret room. " _The_ best superpower, as any student of the Daredevil School of Hard Knocks will tell you."

"You trained with Daredevil too?!" she almost forgot to whisper. "Dude! What do I have to do to train with Avengers?"

"I dunno about you, but I got tossed a few thousand miles into the air and crashed through Matt's roof and his table."

"Oh." She thought it over. "How much did it hurt?"

"A lot." I left the stairs and walked from the wall to the roof, where I started crawling. I used my Spider Cling to keep Marvel attatched to my shoulder while I crawled. "Now, seriously, shush."

"... and you bring me this _junk_?" an old man shouted, and I raised an eyebrow when I laid eyes on him. Old, short, bald, wrinkly and one huge nose. Looked like the comic version of the Tinkerer to me. "This is _bupkis_! I can't use this!"

I pulled the camera and took pictures of the guy, surrounded by weapons, waving alien tech around over his head.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, and I started recording. "This is an energy convertor. It turns something like kinetic energy into electric energy!"

"Isn't that good?" One of the mechanics asked, he looked like a young adult.

"It needs 20,000 kilograms of force to produce two watts!" spittle flew from the Tinkerer's mouth. "If I'm supposed to build weapons for your everyday crooks like you two shiny little morons, I'm going to need better!"

"Think that's good enough?" I whispered at Marvel.

"Hold on, maybe he'll shoot one and we can get him for murder," she joked.

"Take, for example, this," he grabbed a raygun looking thing from a nearby table, and aimed it at the mechanic that'd spoken.

"Crap!" Marvel hissed. "Spider-"

"I know."

The Tinkerer continued, oblivious to us. "Now _this_ is good. This can reduce someone to a pair of smoking boots.

"Allow me to-"

Before he could finish, a web line was attatched to the gun and pulling it out of his grip and into my hand, where I crashed it one-handed.

I finshed recording, hung the camera from my belt, and slowly sank down into the ground upside-down and hanging from a web line. Marvel left my hood and stretched to full size as she embiggened her legs to avoid splatting against the ground. By the time she was regular-sized, my head was level with hers, and we were giving twin glares at the Tinkerer.

"Hello there," I said, in a dangerous tone. "We'd like to talk to you about crime, and the consequences of it."

Here's the thing about the room we were in:

For one thing, it was huge. The length of a basketball court cubed. It was also completely gray, from the roof to the floor to the walls. The only things that weren't were the four metal tables covered in scrap and weapons that the Tinkerer had been working on. My senses hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, so I hadn't felt the need to look, though some background part of my brain found the amount of empty space odd, but I just figured it was to make space for future weapons.

So, when a big gray arm that had previously very much _not_ been there as far as my senses could be suddenly appeared and smached me off of my web line and into a wall, I didn't think much besides ' _WHAT'S THE POINT OF HAVING SUPER SENSES IF EVERYONE SUBVERTS_ _THEM?!_ '.

I must have hit my head harder that I thought, because when I looked at who hit me, I heard the theme from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, "Awaken", blaring at full force in my brain.

With a slight glimmer, a giant in grey armor revealed himself, and my jaw dropped.

In the comics, the Rhino had been a guy in a silly little suit with his face out. In the Amazing Spider-Man sequel, he'd been a guy in a mecha.

Here, he was a mix of both. His head was completely covered by a helmet with a horn in the middle, which split open in half and folded back. With the suit on, he was tall enough that if you'd stacked two of me on top of each other, we'd only come up to his chin. His body was covered in what looked like a grey bodysuit covered in armor and bits of metal, with hydraulics, maybe? His knuckles were covered by a strap of metal, which briefly sparked with electricity.

Basically, he looked like twelve feet of whoop-ass.

"Oh, fuck me," I whispered.

" _Da_ ," the russian spoke, with a cartoonishly thick accent. "If you insist."

I shook my head and looked down. The camera hadn't broken, but the binoculars had.

I looked at Marvel, who was also staring at the Rhino.

"Marvel!" she snapped out of it and turned to look at me. "I'll keep the big guy busy, you arrest the old man!"

She nodded, "Right!"

She started running off, but Rhino stepped over.

"And you think I'll let you?" The big guy smirked.

"You're not going to have an option when I break my foot off in your ass," I replied, getting up and tossing the camera to Marvel, who caught it.

"I never understood that expression," The Rhino said. "It sounds worse for you, honestly."

I nodded, that much I agreed with.

Then I shot two web lines at the chest of his suit, slingshot myself at him, and punched him in his still uncovered face. He stumbled back, and I punched him again, and again, and again.

His face was one big bruise before the helmet folded back onto it, and he went to grab me. I jumped away, and took note of everything around me.

The two mechanics had run off a while ago. Marvel was also leaving, one arm stretched and wrapped around the Tinkerer.

"Suit tells me you hurt me," Rhino's voice blared across the room. "Sad for you, suit cancels out pain. I feel nothing."

"I mean, you're still concussed if I get my hands on you," I pointed out. "No pain doesn't mean no damage."

"True. But for that, you have to catch me." the suit glimmered, and suddenly he was invisible. This would have been fine, but I also couldn't hear, smell or feel him in any way. That's the problem with the Tinkerer, really. His presence means all the nearby villains take around twelve levels in badass.

I jumped onto the roof, just in time to see the ground where I just was burst and shatter.

"Hm," I stood upside-down, and crossed my arms. "You can't touch me, and I can't find you. This is sure to be a very annoying-"

Something grabbed me by the throat, and slammed me through the roof, and up to the workshop. I found myself floating, hanging by the grip on my neck.

With a glimmer, the Rhino appeared, floating slightly off of the ground until the jets on his back and feet slowly turned off, and he landed.

"That's such bullshit," I croacked, forcing myself to get up and rubbing my sore throat. "You can fucking _fly_? Since fucking when do fucking rhinos fucking fly?!"

"It's only flying for short time, if it makes you feel better," the syntetized voice said again. "Tinkerer happened to find blueprints for old Iron Man suit."

Rhino lifted me up over his head and threw me to the ground.

I caught myself with my hands and flipped onto my feet to find the guy already vanished. I could tell with my senses that Marvel was already going around looking for some cops, so I just had to keep Rhino busy long enough for the cavalry to arrive.

Before I could get knocked on my ass again, I ran out of the workshop. I jumped onto the outside wall of the building, and looked around, senses full out and aware.

[Nothing]

Hm, shit. But what if...

I jumped away just before the wall exploded.

' _Yeah, that works,_ ' I smirked. Maybe I couldn't actually feel him coming, but I'd watched enough shows, and I could imagine how a big guy like him moved.

I landed on the street, and thought. Next move would be to chase me down, so he'd have to jump down to the street and smash a fist down on me. I jumped out of the way, and I barely felt something brush by my foot before the street exploded from impact. I flipped back, as I figured he'd swipe for me as he took his hand out the wall. Now, next move if I was writing this scene?

I leaned back, Matrix-style, and hoped that he'd swiped where I just was otherwise I'd look really goofy.

"Hm," he glimmered into sight, on the other side of the street. Dammit. "You don't actually know where I am. You just guess."

"I did some pretty good guesses, in my defence." My face felt hot. So embarrassing when you did goofy stuff in front of a villain.

"True enough. But you haven't seen every trick I have." His suit started to glimmer again.

"Oh no you don't!" With a flick of my wrist, several Web Bombs flew through the air and detonated around him, leaving him invisible but covered in webs. He struggled around, but they held true. "You haven't seen all my tricks either!"

I ran up to him, flipped over, and stood on his back while he continued to struggle. I felt around, grabbed the horn (the one on his head), and started smashing my fist into his helmet. I used my Spider Cling and pulled back to try and open his helmet.

The invisibility flickered with shiny effects as the helmet slowly loosened.. With a roar, I pulled the helmet completely off and the armor gave one last flash of light before the invisibility turned off.

I dropped the helmet. Rhino didn't look impressed.

"Brute force isn't very impressive trick," he noted.

"If it works, it works."

"True."

And suddenly-

[Ozone and bright and pain _pain **pain PAIN**_ ]

-Rhino's entire body lit up with electricity, sending me flying against a building as the webs burnt off.

For a terrifying second, I couldn't even breathe. All my muscles weren't moving, my chest fell tight, my jaw went up and down but I couldn't make a sound and my throat had locked up I was panicking I wanted to scream I couldn't move help help help help please help me. My body relaxed slightly, and I coughed as I struggled to get up. My arms shook, and I fell on my face. I barely heard Rhino say something, but I couldn't focus because all I felt was the blood rushing on my ears. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to run and hide.

I shook my head, and forced my arms to push myself up.

Lightning scared me, for a lot of reasons, both rational and irrational. For rational, I knew that getting electrocuted meant that your muscles were too busy locking up for you to scream, I knew that since it boiled the water in your body enough electricity meant that you basically ended up microwaved after enough energy ran through you. As for irrational, lightning was bright, loud, and fucking scary.

But that didn't matter.

I had to stand up, so I stood up.

' _Remember: don't get scared,_ ' I grit my teeth. ' _Get angry!_ '

I shook my head, and glared at Rhino. Belatedly, I realized I was slightly smoking and smelled faintly of bacon. There's a reason human meat is sometimes refered to as 'long pork'.

"Electricity is your weakness, then?" Rhino seemed a bit amused, but I took comfort on the big ugly bruises on both sides of his face. "Lucky me. Most of my weapons are electrical."

I didn't answer. I just ran forward, going low as if about to jump.

Rhino got ready, but as I jumped, I stuck a web behind him and between his legs, then used it to pull myself behind him. As I slid on the ground, I pulled my escrima sticks out, and waited until he finished turning around before I threw one at his face, hitting him between the eyes. He stumbled back, and the stick bounced back to my hand. Then, while he recovered his balance, I stuck one of the sticks on an important-looking tube on his legs and used it as leverage to remove it, making a brown liquid that smelt similar to gasoline poured out.

I held both weapons in reverse grips and used them to smash every bit of machinery, running around him and between his legs, leaving dents everywhere I reached. Rhino grunted with annoyance, but he was starting to look nervous. He stumbled away from the pool of rocket fuel or _whatever_ the brown liquid was, but he was still pouring it everywhere.

"Let's see how you react to fire," he snarled, and the jet boots turned on. One of his feet raised up, but the other sparked, igniting the pool of fuel under him. The fire expanded by the trail to the original pool of fuel, which was a lot bigger.

I jumped away onto a wall, and let the thing explode. It was loud and I felt it shake me to my core, but I held firmly to the wall with one hand, using the other to sheathe my escrima sticks.

I looked at Rhino. He was sweating and checking over his suit to make sure nothing was broken, but other than the bruises I made at the start of the fight and the new one on his nose, he looked dandy.

' _Actually, he's sweating_ a lot _._ ' I narrowed my eye and watched closer. ' _I can even smell it over the burning fuel..._ '

A wide grin appeared on my face.

Son of a bitch, he didn't have a way to cool down.

A wheezy little laughter escaped me. My chest still hurt from the electric shock, but the schemes forming in my head were cheering me up.

"Rhino," I said. "I am going to fuck. You. Up."

"Big words for little insect."

"Arachnid."

He rolled his eyes, which meant he got surpsied by the webs that slammed into his face.

I stuck one to his chest, and started running, dragging him behind me.

' _Alright, I think I have a plan,_ ' I thought, putting a sudden stop to my run and turning the forward motion into a spin to send the armored brute flying. ' _Step one: locate inflamable liquids or gases. Step two: set him on fire. Step three: profit._ '

Rhino bounced twice off of the street, covering his head with his arms. He got up once he was done bouncing, glaring at me.

I raised my mask up to my nose, stuck a thumb in each ear and waggled the fingers, and blew a loud, long raspberry.

He growled and rushed me, and I started swinging around.

' _Now, can a bitch get a bar around here?_ '

* * *

Keeping an enemy interested and chasing you was a difficult and subtle science. You have to balance annoyance against personal safety, and divide it by the square root of four.

Or, in simple terms, you have to stay close enough that the villain thinks they can get you, but far enough they actually _can't_. Thus, the villain follows, and you take them to somewhere you'll have an advantage.

To me, that was a night club on the Jersey Shore.

While the Rhino was three blocks away (far enough that I had time, but close enough that he could see me) I went into the club. The music was loud, and there was some orange douchebag with black hair gelled into a mohawk lifting his t-shirt to show his abs to some girl near the bar.

I slammed a hand into the bar, cracking it, and shouted over the music. "I DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN, BUT I NEED EVERY BOTTLE OF VODKA YOU HAVE TO BEAT A VILLAIN!"

To his credit, the bartender didn't even question it. He just nodded, pulled a big box filled with twelve bottles of some sort of Russian vodka, and handed it to me with a grave nod.

"Yo, what's up with that?" the orange douche complained, turning around to look at me while still lifting his shirt. "Some clown comes in and you just give him our booze for free?"

"I'm a hero, fuck head. I have to stop a guy involved in a gun smuggling operation." I said, grabbing the box.

He put a hand on it, and tried to stop me. "Yeah? Well I wanna see some fuckin I.D."

I stared at him. He smirked back.

I slammed his head into the bar, cracking his nose, grabbed the box, and left with a nod to the bartender, who mouthed 'thank you'.

Fucking Jersey Shore, I swear to God.

I came out to find Rhino three steps away from the door.

I jumped up on him, off of there and onto a building's wall, and started tossing bottles at him.

"Gah!" He covered his exposed head from the shards of glass. "This isn't very heroic of you!"

"I'm not exactly a very heroic hero," I admitted, throwing the last few bottles and pulling a zippo lighter from my pocket. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't end up disfigured."

I lit the Rhino on fire.

He didn't scream. He was actually very dignified about it, he just stared me down while his armor burned.

"The Tinkerer is a scrawny old bastard," he said. "But he is no fool."

"So you actually have something against overheating?"

" _Da_ ," he smirked. "I didn't want to use it against little fire in winter cold."

His armor glimmered again, and the fire soon dissappeared, replaced with crackling yellow energy.

I remembered what the Tinkerer said in his workshop. "Energy convertor?"

His smirk turned into a toothy smile. "Heat to kinetic."

"Shit."

I jumped off of the wall and swung away. Looking over my shoulder, I could see Rhino stomping down the street at full speed, covered in a yellow aura. He was moving three times faster than before; he jumped and would have caught me had I not changed directions at the last second.

He landed, and kept chasing me.

' _Right, new plan._ ' I thought. ' _Wait for him to run out of energy, and... uh..._ '

I looked around for something useful. A convenient building about to be demolished, a construction site, an explosives factory.

Nothing. Just the stupid bea-

...

"Okay, that might-"

[DANGER!]

Rhino slammed into me, and I heard something go " _CRACK!_ " in my chest. He held me in a bear hug as we quickly sailed through the air, and ended with him slamming me on the ground.

I coughed. I had almost definitely broken a rib. It hurt to breathe, so when he got off of me I flipped him off instead of using my considerable vocabulary to expressed the depth of my hatred for him at that moment.

"Very charming," he informed me, before raising a foot and slamming it down on my stomach. I wheezed, and had to swallow to avoid throwing up inside my mask. Choking in your own vomit is a pretty Rock n' Roll way to go, but I wasn't Jimi Hendrix. "You are resourceful enemy, Spider. But I am mightier."

I coughed, and slowly lifted the bottom of my mask to show my mouth.

I mouthed four words at him.

"What was that?"

I mouthed the same four words again.

"I can't hear you."

I gestured for him to get closer, and he did as such. Probably felt confident on account of how I could barely breathe, which was reasonable.

I sucked in a breath through grit teeth, and spoke in a harsh pant. "Maybe. But she's _Marvel_ ous."

Rhino blinked. As I figured, the suit didn't just make him loose his sense of pain, it also meant he didn't feel Ms. Marvel's two stretched arms wrapping around him before embiggening and lifting him up way over her head.

"Oh, _blyat_ ," I heard him mutter, before she sent him flying.

I chuckled a little. I always liked Russian swear words. I was also possibly a bit delirious from pain.

"Spider! Oh my god, are you okay?" Marvel rushed over and knelt by my side, looking me over. "I saw him lifting you up, and I rushed over just in time to see-"

"I know," I wheezed. "Super senses. Always on."

"Oh, right." I tried to get up, but she gently pushed me back down. "Don't worry, I got this. You just take a breather."

"I'd like to, but I think he broke my ribs." I chuckled a little, then winced with pain. "Ow. Anyway, have plan. Get me off street."

"Plan? Right, plan. I'll pick you up." She was babbling nervously, but she still got it done. She picked me up, and let me Yoda-ride on her back. "What's your plan?"

"Heavy. Throw him in the ocean. Pull him out when he's knocked out." Marvel made to complain, and I covered her mouth before she could. "Only plan I have left. Too tough, too shocky, gets stronger if he burns."

"... Fine." She looked over at Rhino, who was calmly walking over. "How do we toss him in?"

"Go near beach. Maybe docks. Separate, distraction and thrower."

"Which is which?"

"Still working on that," I admitted

"Well, you better hurry, then." Marvel literally stretched her legs, and took to the rooftops. I shot a few webs at Rhino, to keep him engaged. Marvel caught the hint and shouted back, "Hey! Come get us, you big grey ugly... jerk!"

"Hurtful," Rhino said. He sounded like he meant it, too.

We rushed over to some docks, with a big head start on Rhino. We had maybe five minutes unless he used what I figured he had left of kinetic energy.

I dropped down from Marvel's back, and rested my back against a container.

"Okay, plan figured out." I said. "I'm distraction; you're thrower. I get him to you, you dunk him in water."

"I'm not letting you put yourself in danger in that state," she said.

"So I'll just throw the five thousand power-armored asshole with broken ribs?" I asked.

"... Dammit," she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, realeased it, and opened them. "How do you want me?"

Before my brain could filter them, the words escaped my mouth. "In the politically incorrect Ms. Marvel outfit. The one with the boots."

She stared at me, cheeks darkening. I blushed too.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Brain isn't working and you're pretty. Go behind this container, a bit to the right from my perspective. You'll know when to toss Rhino."

"Right," she squeaked. "I'll do that."

' _Well, look at the bright side, Jackass,_ ' I told myself. ' _At least if Rhino kills you you don't have to continue the rest of your team-up with that between you and_ _Kamala._ '

I snorted with amusement, and stumbled away from the container. I stood, legs set in a wide stance, and arms pushed forward. I forced a deep breath, held it for four seconds, and released it.

Rhino smashed into the docks, and his eyes immidiately found me.

"Spider," he greeted. "Your resilience is a credit to you. Where is your friend?"

"Helping with the trap we're setting up. Don't be surprised if a comet falls on you."

"Funny," he said. He actually did seem amused. "I'll show you respect for your determination, and use the last of my kinetic energy against you. You've given me the most entretaining fight I've had since I put on this suit. No one else broke through the invisibility."

He was inexperienced with everything that wasn't punching. I shuddered to think what might happen if he practiced with the thing.

I slid my right foot back, and focused. "Bring it, Rhino."

"Will do, Spider."

He got in a runner's stance, and yellow energy started crackling around his frame.

My senses focused on him to the point that I took back the tunnel vision Murdock worked so hard to get rid of.

He smashed the ground as he charged forward, and I waited.

' _I am the stone that the builder refused._ '

He charged forward, and when I felt his fist approaching, I took it with both hands and used it as leverage to move his entire body. I transformed all the energy of his approach into a spin, and I barely got a glimpse of his expression as he moved through the air.

His wide eyes and slack jaw would make me chuckle for months whenever I remembered it.

My chest ached with pain, but I ignored it. The yellow energy that surrounded Rhino's suit disappeared uselessly into the air, as his own strenght sent him smashing into and through the container.

I fell to the ground, wheezing and crying in pain, but victorious.

' _Chop, chop, chop. A judo flip._ '

I almost laughed.

I lifted my chin, and smiled as I saw Marvel tossing Rhino into the water. ' _Atta girl._ '

I forced myself to stand again, and shuffled over to where Marvel was holding Rhino in the water, ready to pull him out when he stopped struggling.

"You judo flipped him. With broken ribs." She sounded like she couldn't believe it. I couldn't either, and it was _my_ plan.

"Yeah," I sat down, and groaned in pain. "You mind if I rest a while? Maybe take over asking questions?"

"No problem."

I closed my eyes, but still found the energy to add, "Wake me up when you're done."

"Will do."

* * *

I woke up to Marvel's gentle shaking of my shoudler that made pain spring up in my chest. "Gah!"

"Sorry!" Marvel pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm done talking with Aleksei, and I know what we should do."

"Who?" I looked behind her, and found Rhino sitting obediently there. "Your name's Aleksei, man?"

" _Da_."

"And you're not running away?"

"You won fair and square. Very clever about it."

"Huh. Thanks." I blinked lazily at Marvel. "What's your plan again?"

"We go to the police."

"Fuck the police."

She blinked and leaned away, seemingly taken back. "Whoa, why?"

"No, sorry, that's just instinctive at this point. You think we can trust the cops here?"

"I'm pretty sure that we can. I already called ahead -I mean, I let them know that we might gather more evidence first, in case you said no- and they said they'd arrange somewhere public we could meet in case of corruption in the Force."

I was still half-asleep, and that still rang all the alarm bells in my head. "No. No way."

"I know, but we have to try. You almost got pancaked because we were doing this alone, and I'm starting to think this might be Avengers-level."

"It doesn't matter what level it is if we get shot in the middle of it," I pointed out.

"Look, trust me." She said, locking her eyes with mine. "This will be fine."

I closed my eye and thought it over. "Fine. But you're carrying me and Aleksei."

"I can walk on my own."

"You're kind of a prisioner, dude."

"Ah, right."

Marvel was kind enough to actually carry us, even when I insisted I was kidding, and soon we were near some train tracks, where there were already a few cops waiting for us.

"Ms. Marvel!" One greeted her, with a smile on his face. "And... Spider-Man? I thought you were New York."

"I am. Some punk bitch is trying to move in, so I decided to turn it around on him." I was forcing myself to stand, but I wasn't very action-capable at the moment. I could smack around three or four vanilla humans, but there were seven officers. If they attacked, I'd need Marvel and maybe Rhino's help.

"Anyway," Marvel smiled. "You guys look through the camera?"

I was very glad I'd never touched that thing with my bare hands.

"We did. Lots of incriminating stuff. You two did a good job." Marvel beamed. "And this is the guy that was there at the workshop?"

" _Da_. I am the Rhino."

"Good."

[Holsters unlocking and six weapons slowly getting pulled]

"Then there's-"

I stuck a web near the nearest officer's arm, and pulled him to me. I held him by the wrist over his head, making the pistol in his grip plain to see.

"So," I looked at Marvel, who was gaping at me. "Trustworthy cops?"

She turned around looking furious, but the other cop was already pulling the trigger.

"NO!" I threw the cop I was holding into another and made to run, but collapsed in pain.

My sight got blurry and dark around the edges. The thought that I might have gotten Kamala killed made me grit my teeth. I tried to push myself up, but the pain was too much. I gasped and fell again. Gunshots rang out, but I felt no new pain. Suddenly, I was picked up with shocking gentleness, and I looked up to find Aleksei carrying me with one arm and Marvel with the other.

I almost passed out a few times, but he ran us out of there, and soon we were crouching in some dirty alley.

"Fuck me and everything else," I cursed. I turned to look at Aleksei, and nodded respectfully at him. "Thanks for your help, man."

"No problem." He spat at the ground disdainfully. "Filthy _politsiya_ should be ashamed. Gangsters should do crime. _Politsiya_ should catch gangsters."

"Couldn't agree more." I walked over and, with grit teeth and breaths sucked inbetween them, I picked up Marvel. "I'll take her somewhere safe. You should still get arrested."

"How?"

"I dunno, just..." I sighed. "Go to New York. Get Captain Stacy, tell him I sent you and explain the situation as best as you can. He should arrest you."

"He's good _politsiya_?"

"Yeah. Honest to a fault. It's amazing he made Captain in New York without being corrupt, hoenstly."

Rhino nodded. "Then I'll go. Will you two be fine?"

"Yeah, pretty sure we will."

He nodded, and calmly walked out of the alley and down the street. Who the fuck was going to stop him? He was a behemoth in power armor.

And honestly, that's what I loved most about being a hero in the Marvel Multiverse. Sure, the jails might as well have revolving doors at the front, but most villains had something of a code of honor. You treat them right, they treat you right back. And guys like Rhino, or Shocker? They don't mind walking themselves to jail if asshole cops shoot you when you're handing them in, because even if they're on the wrong side of the law, they still understand how the law _should be_.

appI shook Marvel gently, and she stirred awake. She'd gotten shot twice in the left shoulder, but I didn't think that the cops had hit any arteries. I'd covered the wound with webs, but it wasn't ideal. In summation: she needed medical attention soon-ish.

"Spider?" she said. "What-"

"Cops were dirty. Sorry."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Dammit."

"Yeah, listen, I need you awake." She kept her eyes closed, and I gently shook her again. She opened them halfway. "I have no idea how to get anywhere. Do you want to go to a hospital?"

"N-no," she shook her head. "Can't let people know my identity."

"That's fine. Your house? Do you have a first aid kit?"

"No," she blinked lazily. "Circle Q has one. Bruno keeps it stocked. He worries."

"Friends do that. Okay, you can relax a bit." I lifted her up and made some web lines to keep her tied to me. "I'll get you some help, okay?"

"Okay," she closed her eyes, and rested her head against my shoudler as I swung, trying to ignore the huge amounts of pain it caused. "You have a great butt."

"It's good to know I'm not the only one that makes an ass of themselves when they're hurt," I drily noted.

* * *

Bruno was cleaning up inside the Circle Q before leaving in the quiet of the night. I imagine he got a big scare when he saw me, Marvel's arm over my shoulder and with me holding her weight, knocking on his door.

"Open the fuck up already!" I shouted. He rushed over to open the door, and I shoved past him, dragging Marvel to the bathroom. "Get the kit, now!"

He went, no questions asked, and I sat down Marvel on the toilet.

Bruno came back in just in time to see me ripping Marvel's costume open. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"She can be modest and bleed out, or she can be embarrassed and alive. Now leave the kit open over there and fuck off, I need to focus and you breathing over my neck isn't going to help."

"I can help!" he said.

"Do you have experience removing bullets?"

"N-no?"

"I do. Now fuck off. Maybe get her some comfort food or something for when she needs it."

He ran, and I focused on the task at hand.

I was a bit rougher on Bruno that I should have been. To his credit, the bathroom was extremely clean, and the kit was very well stocked. I took off the gloves and webshooters of my costume, washed my hands thoroughly and put on some disposable medical gloves. I grabbed a pincer, and started the painful process of removing the two bullets from Marvel's shoulder.

I dropped them in the sink, and started disinfecting the wound.

"D'you have to rip my costume?" she asked. I looked up and found that Marvel was asleep, but she didn't look great. She was a bit pale, and her eyes were moving a bit lazily. She must have lost a bit too much blood.

"Sorry," I said, finishing disinfecting with a few hisses from her. I started threading a needle after replacing my gloves. "I'll just stitch this up, do something for my ribs, and get you some clothes if you don't have any here."

"I don't."

"You should. For future reference."

"Some heroes have secret caves," she scoffed. "I have the Circle Q."

"If it makes you feel better, the Spider Cave is the basement of my parents' house." I started stitching up her wound. "Hold still."

"You live with your parents?" Marvel asked.

"I'm sixteen," I pointed out. "Seventeen in April, not that it matters."

"You're telling me I'm the same age as Spider-Man?" she actually smiled at that. "That's cool."

I finished stitching the first hole, and went for the second. "If you say so."

I worked in silence for a while, before she spoke again. "Why are you a hero?"

"Why are _you_ a hero?" I said.

"I asked first."

I rolled my eye. "It just seemed right, I guess. I got powers, so I might as well use 'em for good, right? With power there must also come responsibility, that's a speech my dad likes to make."

"My dad says something similar whenever we see something bad on T.V.," she whispered. "It's this _ayah_ from the Quran. Whenever we see a villain attack or a bombing or something. He says 'Whoever kills one person, it is as if he has killed all of mankind — and whoever saves one person, it is as if he has saved all of mankind.' I always liked that, it made me feel better when I was a kid."

"Hm," I smiled. "I like your motivation, Ms. Marvel."

"And I yours, Spider-Man." She returned the smile.

I finished stitching her up, and I quickly bandaged her up. "Do you have a healing factor or something?"

"A pretty weak one, yeah. It's mostly just a fast metabolism."

"Let's meet again in five days so I can check on it. Until then, be careful and don't move your arm too much, got it?"

"Yeah." She seemed exhausted. "Be honest. Did I mess up?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes. Now we have to get back up, wipe the mud off, and start again. Negative's going down."

Marvel smiled. "Hell yeah he is."

"Oh, now I think I might be a bad influence on my friend."

"I know you are."

I laughed, and winced in pain. "Fuck, that smarts."

"Oh, shoot, your ribs! I completely forgot!" She got off the toilet and traded places with me. "How do you fix ribs?"

"You don't move around like an idiot, for starters," I groaned. I took off the top of my costume and dropped it on the floor. My chest had some pretty ugly bruises where Aleksei hit me. The guy was probably going to be another frenemy, but this one he was going to pay for next time we fought. "Your friend's getting food for you. Just eat and get me some food and ice too, they'll help more than anything."

She nodded and made to rush away, before I spoke up.

"Your costume's still torn at the chest, by the way."

She looked down at her very visible bra, blushed, and held it together with her uninjured arm before running off again.

Bruno would probably never forgive me.

I popped some pain medication from the first aid kit -probably enough to kill normal people, but barely enough to relieve me- and leaned back, taking deep breaths to avoid pneumonia. Broken ribs typically took six weeks to heal. It'd probably be less for me if I was just careful.

Marvel rushed back in with half a gyro hanging from her mouth, a full one in one hand, and a few small bags of ice piled up on the other. I stuck the full gyro in my own mouth, and asked her to hand me the gloves and webshooters, which I used to stick the bags of ice to my ribs and chest.

We ate in silence, a strange companionship born of fighting the same fight and keeping each other safe.

"I'm sorry," she said. "About the cops."

"It's fine." I said, finishing my gyro. "I mean, it's trouble, but that's just part of the job, right? We're not really set that far back."

Negative might know I was in town now, but that was going to happen soon enough anyways.

"I'll do better," she insisted. "I'm still getting the hang of this. But I'm going to do better."

"That's all anyone can ask."

There was silence for a while longer, before she cleared her throat. "By the way, about this place..."

"You're Kamala." I said. Better to rip the band-aid. "Same hair, build, and face. Same friend. Same hangout place."

She sighed. "Dammit."

I looked at her. Kamala Khan made a big deal about her secret identity. She only revealed it on purpose in the comics when she felt hopeless or completely shaken, as far as I could remember.

I too sighed, and removed my mask. "Fuck it. Fair's fair."

She gaped at me. "Y-you're the new guy!"

"Don't shout it," I chastised. "I'm already pretty bad at keeping it a secret without your contribution to the cause."

"Sorry," she said, closing the door, and sitting down in front of it. "It's... Jake, right? What happened to your eye? That wasn't there before."

I sighed. "Ninjas. I caught a shuriken to the face, and a magician friend got me an illusion ring. I look normal, but I'm still missing an eye, so I have to rely on Super Senses to make up for the lack of depth perception."

"Couldn't your friend just grow your eye back?"

"Apparently, to do that sort of stuff with magic, you need a few demons around." I guess that made sense. I knew that Strange's hands were still fucked up, and Doom would have probably fixed his face if it didn't require help from the same beings that took his mother from him. "I like my soul where it is, even if I'm not using it for anything, so a missing eye it is."

"Oh," Marvel made a face. "Sorry."

"Don't mention it," I shrugged. "I'm thinking of getting a robot eye or something when I find the chance, but it barely makes a difference to me, so..."

"You're weirdly chill about this."

I snorted, and let silence fall. We rested in a companiable silence until she decided to leave for her home, and I did the same shortly afterwards.

I fell asleep in my apartment with pain all over my body, and I realized for the first time how I'd come to depend on hearing the Parker's sleepy breathing to lull myself to sleep.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Right then, finally introduced the Rhino and the Tinkerer.**

 **So many 'the' Spidey villains, good lord.**

 **Anyways, the next chapter is mostly breather (heh) as our intrepid heroes heal, with some friendships developing 'cause I'm a soft bitch.**

 **Thanks for reading this story's second longest chapter yet, and please review!**

 **Also, I didn't even realize but now this story is one year old! Crazy, huh?**


	26. FEAST Your Eyes

**Chapter #23: F.E.A.S.T. Your Eyes.**

* * *

"So that's what you look like, huh?" I muttered, looking at my Crime Board and thumbing the illusion ring. I was getting into the habit of wearing it everywhere, even in my sleep, in case the building got attacked and I had to escape with my identity intact.

James had found and sent me a photo of Mr. Negative, which I'd printed out and put it on top of his name on the Board.

I'd also managed to sneak some photos of mid-level movers in the Dragon Lords gang, which I'd put down along with their names. Since Kamala and I were still healing, our investigation mostly consisted of her going little and sneaking around to put names to faces, while I took pictures from a distance. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for now.

A knock came upon my door, and I said, "It's open, Kamala."

"That's still so creepy," she complained, as she walked in. "You could pretend to not know who's at the door, at least."

"Yeah? Well, like the proctologist told the backed-up colon: tough shit." I gestured for her to sit on the bed, which she reluctantly did. I grabbed the first-aid kit that Bruno had leant me, since medical operations in a motel where slightly less dangerous than in a cornerstore bathroom, and Kamala pulled down her shirt. "Looks to be healing fine. Does it still hurt?"

"Only when I move too much, or it gets hit," Kamala had learned her lesson about saying she was fine after last session, where I flicked the wound to prove the point. "How much longer?"

It had been a little over a week since we fought Rhino. My ribs still hurt, but not as bad as before, and Kamala's bullet wounds were almost completely healed as far as I could tell.

"Not too much. Less than a week at most." I changed her bandages, which were almost unstained, and patted her unharmed shoulder. "At least you'll get a cool scar out of it, huh?"

"Yeah, because Muslim girls show of their scars _so much_."

I laughed. Kamala had been getting more comfortable with me, mostly out of necessity as I she kept having to take off her shirt around me.

(Sidenote: I'd been getting to see Ms. Marvel shirtless. Good on you, me.)

"What are you thinking of doing, once we're all healed up?" She asked, as she got redressed, and I went back to glaring at my Crime Board, Board of All Crimes. "I mean, so far we know a bit of who's who in the organization, but not much about the actual business."

"We need to grab them all in one fell swoop," I said, glad I got an excuse to say ' _all in one fell swoop_ '. "They already know we're after them, so they must be preparing. If we tip our hand too much, Negative will completely change the way he plays, or even pick up his shit and move somewhere on the other side of the country."

"Right," Kamala said. "So we gather evidence?"

"Yeah, that's the first step. You'll probably heal before me, so I'll be sending you out to certain locations to get in close and personal. As soon as I can jump around without blacking out from pain, I'll join you and we can interrogate some thugs-"

"Without throwing them off buildings."

"... _without_ throwing them off of buildings, yes." I supressed an eyeroll, only because I wasn't wearing a mask. "From that step, we'll gather important information like how many Capes Negative has, how far his empire extends, how he launders his money, etcetera. After that, we see if we can get some outside help for the corrupt cops, who we'll hopefully have completely identified. While cops deal with cops -or as I like to think of it, a bacon vs. bacon BBQ- we'll deal with the Cape side of things, maybe with some help from some acquaintances of mine."

"You have Cape acquaintances? I mean, I know about Daredevil and Black Widow, but-"

"I was thinking Johnny Storm, and maybe Tony Stark if he's up for it. I don't wanna use my favor with Loki."

Marvel gaped at me. " _Everything_ you just said blew my mind."

I smirked. I liked being the cool experienced Cape in a conversation, for once.

* * *

"So, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Michelle raises an eyebrow at me. "Seriously? What are you, my mom?"

"I'd be seriously worried if you talked to your mother in that tone, young lady."

She gives me a smirk, and proceeds to ignore me. It's Monday again, so that means I can annoy her while she tries to paint stuff. MJ is currently doing a study on 'People in Crisis', and she's been trying to get a good angle on her teacher. I'd gotten a picture of him drinking from a flask in the middle of class, and she's been using it as reference.

"But really, what do you wanna do?"

She gives me a _look_ out of the corner of her eye, but answers. "I've been thinking about journalism. Wanna expose racist rich people for their crap."

"It definitely has the appeal of job security."

She chuckles, which makes the teacher look over because sounds of joy have never been made in art class before.

"Hey, are you supposed to be here?" He asks me.

"Do you actually care?" I ask.

He thinks it over, shrugs, and goes back to browsing cat videos on his phone.

I watch MJ put the finishing silver touches on the teacher's flask for a while, then pipe in. "So, you want to work on a news station or a paper?"

"Well, print is dead, which has its own appeal, but I think being the one that asks politicians uncomfortable questions that makes them babble and break into tears is the way to go for me." She said. "What about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Hm," I lean back and think it over. "Well, my childhood dream of being an Avenger and living off of Tony Stark might never come true, so I guess I'll be an English teacher."

She gave me a surprised look. "You'd become what you swore to destroy?"

I laugh, surprised at the reference.

"I know, I know. It's pretty low of be, but..." I make a vague gesture in the air. "You ever have that _one_ teacher that was sort of cool and made you like a subject that you always hated?"

"Sure."

"Well, I didn't. And I guess I kinda want be that to the little shits I'll teach."

She finishes her painting and puts down the brush. "You probably won't be if you call them ' _little shits_ '."

"What if I call them ' _little turds_ '?"

"Oh, then you'll be their _favourite teacher_ ," she turns around the painint and shows it to me. "What do you think?"

"Haunting." And it was. She'd put a painstaking amount of detail into it, from the lines on the teacher's forehead to the single drop of scotch going down his chin. The work with the light was great, illuminating the flask but covering half the teacher's face with shadows. "You gonna show it to him? Might drive him to suicide."

"God no," she puts it down to dry and puts a different canvas she'd been carrying in a bag. This one had a half-finished painting of herself. "I'm just gonna hand this in and blame it on teen angst."

"Nice."

The painting was almost finished by the time class ended, so MJ packed her stuff and we walked out.

"By the way, are you doing anything after school?" I asked her.

"Why?"

"I'm bored and new in town, and I don't have much to do." It was even true. Marvel was completely healed, while I still had a couple days left, so she'd been finding which businesses were owned by Negative and which just paid him to not wreck their shit. Surprisingly, we'd found only two out of eighty businesses we'd looked into were owned by the man, and he barely involved himself with 'em.

"Oh, um," she shrugged. "I volunteer at this place, the F.E.A.S.T. Shelter for the Homeless?"

"Ironic name, but go on?"

"Well, it's not exactly _exciting_. You can come with, if you like, but I doubt you'll be any less bored." She seemed a bit awkward.

"If it's no problem, I think I'd like to go," I shrugged.

"Oh, sure! Yeah, no, it's no big deal," she gave me a small smile. "After school?"

"After school," I nodded. "Now, I gotta go pretend I understand math for a while."

"Good luck," she said. MJ still had that little smile when she walked away. I don't think she had a lot of luck with making friends before I swung around (no pun intended).

I headed off. Soon, I was stuck in the hell that was trying to remember formulas while balancing numbers in my head.

* * *

Shortly after class ended, I met on the rooftop with Kamala.

"Anything new?" I asked.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "I busted a few heads, made sure to look even more clueless than we are, but I couldn't find anything new. Everyone's too scared of Mr. Negative to help us."

"Dammit," I sighed. "This is why I throw people off of buildings, otherwise they're too scared of the Mob Boss to talk."

"We're not-"

"I know, I know!" I leaned back. "So we're stuck?"

"Looks that way. Maybe when you're all fixed up you can help out, see if you spot anything I missed?"

"Maybe." I sighed, patting my ribs experimentally. It'd been two weeks since Rhino. Patting them was a burst of pain, but it barely hurt to breathe anymore and I'd managed to do a backflip without passing out from pain. Not to mention walking up a wall to get to the roof. "I definitely hope so. I get the feeling that with me here, Negative thinks he has a shot with New York."

"We'll stop him." Kamala said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We're the best damn team-up there ever was! Ms. Marvel and the Amazing Spider-Man!"

"Spectacular," I corrected. "You can have Amazing."

"You're sure?" her eyes sparkled when I nodded. "Yes! My own hero adjective!"

"Congratulations," I said, moving towards the back wall of the school. "If you'll excuse me, I'm supposed to meet MJ."

"Who?"

"Y'know, MJ," I looked at her. Kamala was a lot more popular than she realized, with how almost everyone liked her, but there's wasn't even a spark of recognition in her face. "Michelle Jones?"

"Oh, yeah!" Kamala made a weird face, which was super noticeable because she always stretched something on her face when she was being weird about something. " _That_ MJ. Good ol' MJ. I thought you meant _another_ MJ, but-"

"You had no idea friends call her MJ, did you?"

"None whatsoever." She shamelessly admitted. "How do _you_ know that?"

"We're friends, duh." I was halfway down the wall when Kamala rushed down to meet me.

"You befriended Michelle?! Dude, I've been trying to do that for months!"

"It was more like she befriended me, honestly," I jumped down and landed with a small wince, but walked it off. "Maybe you should be less in-your-face happy and just greet her normally? And definitely don't call her MJ if you're not her friend."

Kamala went in another direction, muttering under her breath about unfair foreign Capes, while I walked to the front of the school.

* * *

"... and they're called ' _I Don't Know How But They Found Me_ '." I said.

"Sounds like a ' _Panic At The Disco!_ ' ripoff," MJ snorted, as we walked to the shelter.

"Oh, it almost definitely is. One of their songs is called 'Nobody Likes The Opening Band' or something."

"I have to hear this," she said, already pulling out her phone and looking them up. "How'd you even find out about them?"

"Youtube recommendations. No idea why." I shrugged.

"I think you know why," she smiled at me. "Been listening to edgy tween bands, Fletcher?"

"I resent the accusation," I said, folding my arms and looking away. "I've done no such thing!"

"Yeah, okay," she said, clearly not believing me. "Speaking of music, you ever hear about how the Ramones mindwiped people?"

"No, but I guess that makes sense, since I listen to the Ramones."

"Right, so there's this theory that some secret corporations wanted the youth to act rebellious so parents could be talked into controlling them better, right? So they got the Ramones to make music with subliminal messages to get young people to go around fucking stuff up." She explained animatedly. "And then the same corporations swoop in and make the parents react by trying to control the teens, so there's this whole conflict while both sides pay the corporations for Ramones merchandise and for stuff to make the teens calm down, like bibles and stuff."

"Sounds overly complicated," I said. "I'd buy it."

We kept making small talk until we reached the F.E.A.S.T. Shelter. The sign at the front explained that ' _F.E.A.S.T._ ' stood for ' _Food, Emergency Aid, Shelter and Training_ '. Just from being outside, I could hear how full the place was.

I could hear men, women and children -teens not much older or younger than me- throwing up in the bathrooms and shuddering under covers, going through the symptoms of withdrawal. I could hear sobbing, arguing, and more. People going through the worst of being at the bottom of society. I even heard a few sneaking off to the back, glass objects in their hands.

I could also hear a volunteer teaching a class how to cook, and complimenting everyone on their improvement. I heard one of the homeless men helping someone he'd apparently never met through their withdrawal, rubbing soothing circles on their back and whispering soothing words. I heard two people talking and joking and helping each other write their resumes.

I remembered how Matt told me that the worst part of having enhanced hearing was that you suddenly became aware of everything you usually ignore because it's behind a wall. He told me that the only way he kept from going insane some days was that sometimes, that was also the best part. That you sometimes became aware of acts of the most senseless and generous kindness.

"We take the good with the bad," he'd told me. It was good advice.

MJ pointed me towards the front desk, where I had to do some paperwork to get a plastic volunteer badge. Once I got it, she met me inside.

The main room, where people slept, studied and pretty much lived, was what had at one point been a basketball court, modified to hold several rows of bunk beds, almost all of them in use. Michelle gave me a quick tour, showing me the kitchen area, the bathrooms, and a small room set aside to teach people the basics they'd need (math, English, etcetera) in case they needed it.

There was also a small area set aside for medical attention, which is pretty much where I stayed. Once I explained I had a bit of practice with first aid and stitching people up (which got me weird looks until I said I was from New York, at which point they turned into understanding nods) they gave me a small kit filled to the brim with everything I needed.

It was sort of a blur after that; F.E.A.S.T. gave free healthcare not just to homeless and poor, but to everyone, so there was a long stream of people that wanted to live, but not in the debt of a hospital. I had to help someone that'd gotten stabbed in a mugging, someone that got run over and had the guy that hit him drive him to the place, someone with a broken leg, and so on.

At one point, a woman that looked to be in her 30's brough a kid, who was doing his level best to scream. She explained how he fell from the stairs, and how she'd heard something crack. I quickly figured his ribs were broken, and had to stifle an inapropiate laugh.

' _Oh, you broke your ribs falling down some stairs, kid? I got my ass handed to me by a twelve-foot Russian thug with fucking power armor and a code of honor!_ '

Instead of saying that, of course, I asked someone to get me some ice, got the kid to take something for the pain, and explained to the mother how to take care of the ribs. She questioned how much I knew, so I lifted up my shirt to show her the bruises still littering my chest and said that I knew pretty god-damned much.

She kept quiet and noted down every bit of advice I gave her after that.

After some more time helping people, Michelle came over and told me it was time for my break, so I took off the disposable gloves and joined her in the staff room.

"Was taking off your shirt really necessary?" she asked me, as she handed me a cup of coffee. I tried it, and almost cried at the taste of the first decent cup of java in weeks. Circle Q could go to hell. "I mean, we all liked the show, but it felt a bit dramatic."

"Oh? You _liked_ the show?" I smiled.

"Don't get too flattered, Fletcher," She smirked back. "I've seen better."

"In my defense, I'm a little messed up."

"In the head, maybe."

I snapped my fingers. "I knew I left you that opening as soon as I said it."

"Yeah, you're pretty out of shape. You sure you're okay?"

Aw, she's masking worry with mocking.

"I'm fine, MJ, it was just some asshole that tried to mug me."

"Hm," she sipped her own cup, and we stayed there in companioable silence for a while.

It came to a finish when an Asian man (possibly Chinese) wearing a black suit walked in. He walked around the break room, greeting people and making a bit of small talk. He wore a kindly smile, and had laugh lines as well as worry lines on his face. There was something about him, though, that set me on edge. Something vaguely familiar.

When he reached MJ and I, he stopped to stare at me before exchanging some pleasantries with Michelle.

I tensed up in preparation to fight for my life. If I gave Michelle a small shove to get her out of the way, I could take him down quick unless he was supernaturally strong or something. Maybe if I tossed him into a wall, I'd have time to grab a table and smash it into him? Dammit, I should have brought my webshooters-

"Well, it seems there's a new face here!" he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I loosened my muscles just before he touched me. "It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Fletcher," I gave a fake little smile. "Jake Fletcher. And you are?"

"I'm Martin Li, proud founder of F.E.A.S.T." Butter wouldn't have melted in his fucking mouth. "Are you a friend of our Michelle?"

"Good question," I turned to look at her. "Am I?"

Butter wouldn't have melted in mine either.

"He's a jerk that invaded my art class," she said, tone flatter than... something really flat. I dunno, is Texas flat? Flatter than Texas. "But he knows a bit about medicine, so I brought him so he'd be useful."

"Ouch," Li said, with an obviously fake wince. "Well, I've got to go check on some stuff. Keep up the good work, guys!"

He left the break room, and I almost sighed in relief.

"Okay, what was that?" MJ immidiately asked me. "As soon as you saw him, you got all tense."

"I don't know, I just think I've seen-"

And something in my brain went 'PING!'.

I fished my phone from my pocket and started looking through the pictures.

"Um, Jake?"

"Oh, sonuva whore," I said. I looked at the picture of Mr. Negative, and compared it to Martin Li. I showed it to Michelle. "Does he look similar to Li to you?"

"What?" she looked at my phone. "Um, kinda, I guess? Isn't that a villain?"

"Yeah, he is." I selected the camera on my phone, put on the negative filter, and ran off. "Wait here!"

"Like hell," she muttered, following a bit behind me.

I rushed up to Li, who was talking to a man wearing a suit and shaking his hand. The man in a suit was thanking Li about how he got his job thanks to F.E.A.S.T., and I took the chance to talk to him as soon as the man left.

"Excuse me, Mister Li?" he turned. "I was texting to my mom, and she thinks your name sounds familiar. Could I send her a picture?"

"Oh, um, sure! You can just call me Martin, though." he walked up to a wall, crossed his arms, and made a 'cool' pose against it, which he immidiately ruined by giving me a dopey smile. "Okay, ready?"

I took the picture. "Yup, all done."

Once Li left, MJ and I returned to the break room and stood with our backs to our corner. She looked over my shoulder as I compared the pictures.

Martin Li and Mister Negative looked damn near exactly the same, right down to the suit, the laugh lines, and the worry lines. The only difference was the goofy smile on Li's face, while all Negative showed was a cold, calculating look.

"Well, shit." Michelle said.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I was thinking."

"What the fuck do we do now?" she said, in that little hiss people make when they want to shout and whisper at the same time. "Why do you even have a picture of Evil Li on your phone?"

"He calls himself Mr. Negative," I corrected. "And I can't tell you."

"The hell you can't!" she tried to grab my phone, and I tilted it out of the way. "Jake-!"

"Michelle," I interrupted. I pointed at everyone else in the break room, and she groaned with frustration. She then grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me out back. "Okay, now you can shout at me."

"Gladly," she growled. "What the hell is going on?!"

"Okay," I took a deep breath. "There's a lot I can't tell you, but the basic bullet points are: Mr. Negative's trying to move into New York. I'm looking into him. This is the biggest clue I have."

"Clue? For what?"

"How he launders his money," I pointed a thumb at the shelter. "There's buildings like this in different parts of town, right?"

"Um, yeah, like two or three? I just go to this one."

"Well, as far as I know, over fourty businesses pay protection to Mr. Negative, and that's just the ones I checked," I started pacing nervously. "There's also all his thugs, who are pretty well-armed. And this is the only place I've managed to connect directly to Negative."

"Shit. You mean I've been helping a gangster?"

"Well, you've also helped a lot of homeless people. But yeah, also a gangster."

Michelle groaned and leaned back against the wall. "I'm not even going to suggest we take this to the police."

"Already tried. Friend got shot."

"Whoa, what?" She looked at me. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah, but that's not the point." I grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eye. "You need to make sure no one knows that _you_ know anything. Same for me. Same for my friend."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

I wince. She's definitely not going to let me keep her out of this. Michelle had the rare trait of being someone that regularly gave a fuck about stuff.

"... If you're up for it..." I said, hoping she'd interrupt me and shout something like ' _No! Not at all! Get me away from the crazy villains!_ '. She didn't, so I kept going. "Maybe keep an eye on Li? I'm not telling you to break into his office or something, just keep me updated if he does anything weird."

"What if he notices?" she asked.

"Uh, fuck, um," I thought it over. "Tell him that... you... want to be a bigger part of F.E.A.S.T.? Yeah, that works!"

"A bigger part of F.E.A.S.T.? So, like, I'm following him around, trying to understand how the bureocrat side of things works?" She nodded, her enthusiasm increasing. "Actually, that can really work. If I get to peek into his documents-"

"-Then you can find evidence that he's been laundering money!" I smiled. This was actually going a lot better than expected. "Oh my god, this is a huge break in this god damned case! It's been driving me nuts to keep working with practically nothing."

"Yeah, by the way, are you Spider-Man?"

Oh god dammit.

* * *

"... and that's why MJ's working with us now." I explained, gesturing at my Michelle, who was standing to my right and behind me. "Any questions?"

"How are you so bad at hiding your secret identity, dude?" Marvel asked, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "Also, does she know who _I_ am? Did you tell her?"

"No!" I said, indignant. How could she think I'd go around telling people her secret-

"Yes." Michelle said, cheery. "You're Kamala Khan."

"Not as far as I knew two seconds ago!" I said, in the exact same tone, before turning to look at MJ. "Seriously, what?"

"She literally just wears a bit of fabric around her eyes. It's not what you'd call a foolproof disguise." Michelle pointed out. "I don't really talk to her that much, and I like the work she does as Ms. Marvel, so I just left her alone."

"Great," Marvel said, ripping off her mask, now firmly annoyed. "So nobody here has a secret identity."

"Yeah, we kinda suck at this." I admitted with a shrug. "I'd suggest we both get better masks and suits, but I'm already literally covering every inch of skin with mine."

"You two are fine," Michelle said. "No one really thinks about Jake 'cause he's just some crazy guy from New York, and everyone knows Kamala is some Avengers-obsessed nerd, so they don't believe she could actually be Ms. Marvel without telling everyone about how cool it is to be a hero. I'm just observant."

Ouch. For me and for Kamala.

"Well, ignoring that piece of brutal honesty," I said. "Now that we know who Negative really is, we can move forward with the investigation."

We were meeting on the roof of my apartment. Marvel had suited and Michelle was wearing a mask I'd loaned her, even though she didn't want to keep her identity hidden from Kamala, while I was still in civilian clothing.

Once we were done deciding what to do, Kamala went off on patrol, and MJ helped me carry the Crime Board, Crimiest of all Boards, back down.

"How do you breathe with that thing on, anyway?" she said, tossing the mask on my bed. "I felt like my hair was trying to kill me."

I pointed at my own undercut.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." She sat on my bed, while I hung up the Crime Board, mastermind of all Board-related Crimes. "So why are you doing this?"

"What part of this? Hanging the Crime Board? Dicking around in Jersey?"

"The cape part," I turned around and found her sitting cross-legged on my bed. "I mean, it's cool and all, but it seems dangerous."

"Well, yeah," I shrugged. "Sorry about lying, but the broken ribs weren't because of a mugging."

"I figured that out too, yeah." She gestured vaguely at me. "So?"

"No special reason. I figured it was the right thing to do, so I did it." I shrugged. "I got pretty good at it, so I keep doing it."

"Just like that, huh?" she laid down on my bed. "That's kind of why I want to be a journalist, honestly. I'm good at figuring out the truth."

"Well, I'm glad there's someone like you out there, hounding for news," I said. "Can I get you anything to drink? There's nothing here, but I can run to the store."

"Nah," she got up and off my bed. "I think I'll just go home."

"Want me to walk you? It's pretty late."

"... I'd like that, Spider-Man."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Yeah, I'm not crazy about this chapter, but it's necessary to move the plot forward.**

 **Next chapter, two whole villains!**

 **I feel bad for my characters, sometimes.**


	27. Prepare for Trouble and Blah-Blah-Blah

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Okay, here's the thing. I deleted a chapter that was just an Author's Note thanking someone for the idea for when Gwen discovers Jake's identity. Nobody really seemed to care, so I took it down and immediately started a mess of people putting reviews about a missing chapter.  
**

 **So, y'know, sorry about that.**

 **Anyway, onto the story:**

* * *

 **Chapter #24: Prepare for Trouble, and Make It Blah-Blah-Blah.**

* * *

You know, I'd been Spider-Man for almost a year, and all things considered, my career as a vigiliante lunatic that swings around New York on webs had been going pretty great. I had a network of acquaintences, two very important Avengers as mentors, even if one was retired, and both Steve motherfuckin' Rogers and Tony son-of-a-bitch Stark knew my name.

That wasn't nothing. That was a helluva lot, actually.

So then how fucking come I keep finding myself fighting FUCKING BIRD PEOPLE?!

* * *

 _Earlier that day... (because everyone loves this fucking trope,_ _right?)_

* * *

"It's like we thought," Michelle said, as she came into my room without even knocking. "Li's using the shelters to launder money, along with a few businesses that he 'benevolently sponsors'. Did I wake you up?"

"Bwhu?" I blinked. I patted blindly for my phone and glasses, and looked at the time. "Mich'lle, 's six fourt'y-eigh' 'n th' fuckin' mornin'. Why're you here? And 'n m' apar'men'?"

"Right, remember that text I sent you?" she said, closing the door behind herself and pacing around my apartment.

"Y'mean the extremely alarming text that just said 'he found me'? The one you followed with 'never mind, I'm good'? Yes. I recall." I was slightly more awake, but my bed still called to me.

Seriously, she just did that. I was literally inside Li's office, escrima sticks in one hand and crawling on the wall to shove them inside his eyes when I got the second text from Michelle. And since I made it the whole way there in a panicked wrath haze, getting out was a lot harder.

"Right, well, he bought the line and let me get involved. He had me start by filing stuff, which seems like a waste of me, but I snuck some photos of his files." She pulled out her phone and showed me some pictures, but the glare of her phone (which was set much brighter than my own) made me wince and groan in pain. "Sorry. The point is, I ran the numbers and they don't add up! I have evidence that he's been laundering money!"

"You're sure?" I asked.

"Does a bear crap in the woods?" she asked in return.

"This is great, seriously great. But I have a question, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, no, go ahead." She was way too chipper.

"It's is currently ten 'till fucking seven and we don't have class until 11, so why the hell are you still awake?"

"I couldn't sleep until I knew!" she complained, waving her arms in the air like a bird. "I've been volunteering for this asshole for almost years, and he just let me look at all the evidence that he's been lying to me all this time. To all of us!"

"Right." I rubbed my face. "And you just walked over here as soon as you worked out all the math?"

"Pretty much." She nodded. "So what now?"

"Ugh," I rolled off the bed, making it fold back into the wall while I fell to the ground gracelessly. "First, I'm going to try and remember how my body works. After that, we're going to get coffee. After that, planning. I'm good at planning."

"Are you though?" I heard her say while I moved my laptop off of the boxes and started looking for clean clothes. "Where are we even going to get coffee at this hour? I mean, I've been drinking expressos non-stop, but that's because I have a coffee machine in my room."

I stopped, realizing she's right. Then I put everything back on top of the box and grabbed one of my super suits and started putting it on.

"You mind if we swing instead of walk?" I asked her. "I think we should talk with Kamala, and I'm sure she has a coffee machine."

"Oh, yeah, sure! I'll meet you on the roof!" she started to run off, but opened the door to pop her head back in. "Nice boxers, by the way."

And off she went.

I blinked, slow and stupid, before pulling down my super pants and seeing I was wearing some Star Trek-themed boxer-briefs with 'The Final Frontier' written on the back.

I groaned, hid my reddened face under my mask, and marched off to the roof, locking the door behind me.

' _I don't even like Star Trek!_ '

* * *

It took MJ a while to stop screaming in my ear. Then it took her a while to stop whooping. It was the usual reaction. Whenever I had to carry a civilian to safety, they usually went from panic to elation, though it took different amounts of time for each person.

Honestly, I kind of shared her joy. Swinging was old hat by now, but I'd just recently healed my ribs. While I gave her time to get used to swinging, I gave a couple laps around the city, and I surprised myself with how much I'd missed the feeling of cutting through the air with nothing but a single web line keeping me safe.

Once she remembered it was the middle of the morning and we were supposed to be stealthy, she stopped whooping, and I finally swung us over to Kamala's house. And, frankly we could have done it better, but I was fucking tired, so I just opened the window, walked in, and shook her awake.

"Hey, Kam," I whispered, shaking her awake. "How's the coffee situation around here?"

Predictably, she screamed and tried to punch me in the face with an enbiggened fist, which I dodged easily.

"Jake?!" she looked around. "What? Why are you in my room? Why are you and Michelle in my room? What time is it?"

"You can call me MJ," the girl in question said.

"Okay. What time is it, MJ?"

"Little before seven, right?" she turned to me.

I pulled my phone from my utility belt. "Uh, no, it's two past seven, actually."

"Why are you two in my room at this hour, then?" Kamala still had an embiggened fist raised over her head, but I didn't mention it in case she remembered and decided to use it.

"Michelle woke me up and misery loves company. Also, she says she has evidence that Negative's been laundering money through-"

I stopped and turned to look at the door half a second before Kamala's dad kicked it in. "Kamala! What are you doing-"

He stopped. He looked at me, then at the enbiggened fist, then at Michelle, then back at me.

I waved.

He waved back, gaping like a fish.

Two more people, who must've been Kamala's brother and mother, rushed up behind the father, and gaped with him.

"Um," Kamala's arm disembiggened. "This isn't what it looks like?"

* * *

Kamala's mom made some amazing coffee, and I didn't hesitate to let her know what I thought about it.

"Thank you, Spider-Man," she said, pouring me my twentieth cup even though I insisted she should just let me pour myself. "It's nice that _someone_ likes my coffee around here."

The jab was probably directed to Kamala, her dad, and/or her brother, who were all talking in the living room. I'd been listening in half-heartedly, paying just enough attention to know that they weren't fighting as much as expressing how much they worried, yet felt proud. Kam's mom had already explained that she knew her secret, on account of Bruno and Kamala sucking at keeping secrets.

Michelle was sitting next to me, looking like she was starting to nod off. After hearing how she kept herself awake with expresso after expresso, Kamala's mom had refused to serve her any more coffee.

"You okay there, MJ?" I asked, somewhat amused.

"I'd be better if you gave me some coffee," she grumbled. "How much longer do you think they'll take?"

Just as she said that, the family untangled from the stretched-arm hug that Kamala had literally wrapped them in, and walked into the kitchen.

Kamala's dad made to talk, but I spoke first. "I'm sorry, Kamala."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spill your secret." I gestured vaguely at her family. "I mean, it obviously worked out, but it wasn't my secret, and I'm sorry. I'm stupid before coffee and all I could think was that you probably had some and definitely needed to hear the latest news on the case."

She sighed, before giving me a tired smile. "It's not how I wanted to do it... but I didn't really have a plan anyways. I accept your apology, Spider."

I pulled off my mask with a resigned shrug. "Fair's fair. I'm Jake."

Kamala's family flinched when they saw my eye, but were tactful enough to not mention it. Kamala sat on the other side of me, and declined her mother's offer of coffee to stretch her arms and pour herself a glass of Orange Juice without leaving her seat.

"It'll be nice to do stuff like that openly from now on," she commented, sipping her glass.

Kam's mom gives me a look of ' _can't appreciate good coffee to save her life, this girl_ ' to which I reply with a solemn nod. Nothing worse than being a coffee person in a house of tea and juice lovers.

"So, what now?" Kamala asked. "You said MJ had some stuff?"

I turn to look at Michelle, who was fully passed out, face-on-table. I shook her gently by the shoulder and when her eyes opened, handed her my own cup of java, ignoring the disapproving look Kam's mom was giving me.

Once she drained the cup, she started talking.

Now, I'm ashamed to admit it, but since most of it went over my head, I kinda disconnected and just thought about my bed. The jist of it, as MJ explained once she saw my glassy-eyed look, was that the numbers of the money that went into F.E.A.S.T. as donations and the amount actually spent on F.E.A.S.T. were completely different.

"Great," I nodded. "That means we've got Li. Now, we gotta focus on the Cape side of business, and see how far he's infiltrated the pi-I mean, the cops."

"We're a Muslim household," Kamala's dad said. "You can call them pigs. We don't really care."

I fucking love Kamala's family.

"Right. And the drones."

I turn to look at MJ, who still hasn't returned my cup. "What?"

"The drones. The ones that blew up your school."

I blink. I blink again.

"I _completely_ forgot about them!" I said, slamming a hand against my face. "I'm so stupid!"

"I thought it was just Tinkerer," Kam chimed in, expression souring at the thought of the escaped mad scientist.

"Tinkerer's tech is all clunky. The drones were sleek. Different tech guy." I started rubbing my chin. So far, Negative's guys had all been Spider-Man villains. Who else...

Oh fuck.

"Actually, I think I'm going to look over some stuff. I might have an idea of who it is."

"Well, that's all well and good," Kamala's mom said. "But it's very early and all the heroes have school later."

"Right, we should get some sleep while we can." I gave MJ a look. "You especially."

"I'm fine," she waved me off, clutching the empty cup of coffee like Gollum with his ring. "I'll just stay up until it's night again."

I traded a look with Kamala's mom.

* * *

"Put me down!"

"Give up the cup, Jones!"

"Never!"

I was currently holding MJ by her sides, lifting her over my head. Kamala's mom was standing on a chair trying to pry the cup from her fingers, while Kam's dad and brother stood behind her ready to catch her if necessary.

"This is why I didn't want to give her coffee!" Kam's mom shouted at me.

"Now is not the moment to guilt trip me!" I shouted back. I started tickling MJ, but she just smacked me in the head with her elbow. "Ow!"

Eventually, MJ broke through the typical lunacy adquired after hours of not sleeping, apologized for everything, and handed over the cup. We bid Kamala goodbye, and headed to her house. As we were leaving, I heard Kam's mom tell her daughter that she'd be skipping school the next day, since she needed extra energy to protect Jersey.

I walked side-by-side with MJ, just taking in the sights of Jersey at night. Honestly, New York was still better.

"You know, we'd get there faster if we swung," MJ said, all casual-like.

"No."

"Why not?" The casualness left, and she decided to just whine about it.

"People that elbow me in the head don't get a ride in Spidey express."

"I said I was sorry," she patted my head. "Come on! I won't scream!"

To save the conversation from veering too far into innuendo, I gave in and gave her a ride.

On the web. Not the Spidey express.

Shut up.

* * *

 _Later, in front of school..._

* * *

"I feel like shit," MJ muttered.

I groaned in return. I didn't really say anything, just a zombie groan.

The bags under my eyes were even darker than usual, and MJ's hair was practically a tied-down afro. I was pretty sure I was wearing my shirt backwards, and MJ's typical resting bitch face was now an active murder face.

We looked at each other, then at the school.

"You know..." I said, "My grades don't seem to be too bad so far. And I doubt the teachers'd miss me. _And_ Kamala is skipping."

"Your point being...?"

"Wanna skip too?" I asked. "I found a good place to make a web hammock and nap."

Getting Peter to make the Web Bombs last ten hours instead of the usual single hour was one of my best decisions.

MJ thought it over, before nodding. "That sounds awesome."

So yeah. I took her to this big billboard I found while I was healing my ribs, trying to be sneaky since I didn't feel like changing into my super suit just for a nap. I used a couple web bombs to improvise two web hammocks and a safety net under us, one a bit above the other. Michelle took the top one, and I set an alarm for a little before school ended. Our internal clocks would be messed up, but we'd be fresh and ready for our investigative work. In theory.

Waking up was a bit of an awkward affair, thanks to us suddenly being completely awake and realizing I'd literally just _asked her to sleep with me_ , but as the mature teens we were, we only blushed a lot. MJ refused my help in getting her down and instead opted for jumping down and bouncing off of the safety net, but other than that, it was all normal.

Yup.

Suuuuper normal.

Whatever. After that we met with Kamala in Circle Q. She was already in costume, so I went to the back to change into my super suit.

[By the way, sorry about how I acted last night at your place. I was a bit delirious]

[It's okay, Michelle]

[MJ. Friends call me MJ]

Once I finished changing and texted Marvel to join me behind the Circle Q, Michelle went to F.E.A.S.T. Before she left, I handed her a few things, in case of emergency. She gave me a small smile and a nod before leaving.

After that, Ms. Marvel and I snuck around alleys until we left, swinging and parkouring around rooftops on a quick patrol before going back to the case.

"So, did you find out who sent the drones?" she asked me, once we stopped on a rooftop for a quick after-patrol break. "You've been a bit dodgy about it."

I winced under my mask, before I started pulling some papers out of my utility belt.

"This' who we're going to check out," I said, handing over the papers. "Guy that used to work for Osborn, called Otto Octavius. Smartest guy there, if his awards, PhD's and diplomas are any indication. Moved here about a month after Osborn and I had our... _issues_."

Marvel seemed a bit uncomfortable at the mention of Osborn. The details had been kept private, but it was publicaly known that Osborn did _something_ to piss me off and it ended _extremely_ poorly for his green ass. Shocker and I'd made sure the rumors spread with a bit more detail on the criminal side of things. "And you think he's connected to Negative?"

"I'm not sure..."

' _YES! OH MY FUCKING GOD, HE IS SO FUCKING GUILTY! I'M GOING TO NAIL HIM TO THE FUCKING WALL BEFORE HE CALL STEAL MY BODY! THAT FAT_ _ _FUCKING_ CREEP, I WILL TEAR HIS LIFE A NEW ASSHOLE! I FUCKING HATED SUPERIOR SPIDER-MAN AND THAT SHIT AIN'T HAPPENING ON MY WATCH! NO WAY, NO FUCKING HOW!_'

"I'm suspicious of him, but I just want to ask him a few questions. No need to build my own enemy."

Yeah, as much as I hated the idea of Doc Ock generally existing, I wasn't going to risk turning him into a villain by accident. I hate that cliché. Plus, despite everything, he was one of the smartest people around. He could do a lot of good.

We went over to the apartment building Octavius was staying at. We went in through the window, and climbed up to the floor he was staying in.

[Only one heartbeat]

I raised one finger, and Marvel nodded. That's one of the things I liked most about working with her, really. She was intuitive on the job.

I knocked on the door. "Doctor Octavius? My friend and I have some questions for you."

[Metal plates sliding together]

[Sand shifting against the walls]

[An exhaled breath, previously held in anticipation]

[The hearbeat quickens]

[Finally!]

I tackled Marvel out of the way just before a torrent of sand blew open the door.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking-"

That was as far as I got before the sand enveloped me.

Before I sank under it, I managed to spy two metal wings.

* * *

Michelle was nervous.

Despite the _very awkward_ nap with Spidey/Jake/Whatever-She-Was-Supposed-To-Call-Him, she still had bags under her eyes and her whole body felt sluggish. She was getting Li's coffee, and she couldn't help but wonder, despite the stupidity of it, if he'd notice her sleepy state and connect the dots.

She went up the stairs. Li's office was on the second floor of Michelle's usual F.E.A.S.T. Shelter, which was apparently the first one Li'd founded. Michelle's ' _office_ ' was the archives, and she'd gotten a little chair and table with a lamp on a corner. Apparently Li was lousy with paperwork and, since Michelle had given the impression of being a smart girl, he decided to let her look over it.

The walls between their offices were thin enough that Michelle could listen to the crappy Country music Li liked to listen to while he worked. He'd told her once that he enjoyed the irony of being a self-made Chinese immigrant millionaire that listened to Country.

That was the worst part of being close to a Crime Lord, Michelle decided, sometimes they got you to agree and laugh with them.

"Here's your coffee, Mister Li," she said, handing over the foam cup from Starbucks. "Mostly cream and sugar, just like you asked."

"You don't have to stop calling me Martin just because you're my intern, Michelle," he said, sounding amused. "But thank you."

"It's more professional that way," she answered, with a simple shrug. "So, what do you want me to do? Manage your agenda?"

In theory, she was supposed to be on that already, but when she reached for the little black book on Li's desk, his hand snapped forward and took it before she could.

That was the thing. Li had told her that she'd be in charge of looking over paperwork, getting him coffee, and managing his agenda, but so far she'd only done the first two. He'd said he was easing her into it, but...

"Ah," Li looked at the book in his hand, then back at her, looking almost surprised.

Yeah, _that_. It like he didn't realize he was grabbing the book until after he'd done it.

"No, not quite yet, Michelle," he said, still smiling, but Michelle spotted a bit of sweat going down the side of his face. "For now, I think it'd be fine if you just looked over more of my paperwork."

More evidence in the paperwork would be good. Li's little black book of secrets would be even better.

"... of course." She gave a fake little smile and left.

Or rather, she walked out, left the door almost-closed behind her, went into her ' _office_ ', waited until he put on that stupid Country music, and went back outside Li's office with her camera phone out and recording.

Over the Country music, Michelle could hear Li arguing with someone. "Are you stupid? I thought you didn't want to get found out."

' _Who is he talking to?_ ' Michelle opened the door slightly, making no sound, but finding Li glaring at a mirror on a wall from his seat behind the desk.

"... of course I want her safe! ... Yeah, _great_ plan. It's only your damned luck that she hasn't found anything yet. I just hope she does soon so the cops can put us behind bars."

' _Maybe he_ isn't _Negative? What if he has like a twin brother, or-_ '

"Stop! Wait, it isn't your turn, just sto-" Suddenly, black and white energy burst out of Li in a blinding flash of light. When Michelle's eyes recovered, she had to cover her mouth and stifle a gasp.

Slightly smoking, a villain sat where Martin Li had just been.

" **I believe, Martin,** " Mr. Negative said. " **That you need a reminder of who is in charge here. Me. Your very own personal monster. The only reason I let you keep F.E.A.S.T. is because I like the easy money laundering and the ability to rub the fact that there's nothing you can build that I can't corrupt.** "

The villain stood up and walked over to look out of Li's window, turning off the audio system first. The villain's voice was muted and faint, like hearing someone through a wall.

" **Miss Jones will either be incompetent and not find any evidence, be stupid and find it and take it to the police, or be smart, find it, and offer to cover it up. In any case, I win. As** **always.** "

And yeah, that pissed Michelle off.

' _Here's option four, asshole,_ ' she thought, pressing down as hard as she could, bursting into the room and tossing one of the web bombs Spidey had given her into the villain's back. He almost had time to turn around, but the web bomb burst before he could finish the movement and stuck him in the corner of his office, covered completely.

Michelle was tempted to whoop and holler and celebrate, but instead she ran in, stepping as loud and heavy as possible, and snatched the little black book into her back pocket. When she saw the black and white energy coming out of the cocoon, she rushed outside, again making her footsteps as loud as possible, slammed herself against the wall, and curled up on the ground clutching her stomach.

Michelle had her eyes closed, but she heard Negative's rushed footsteps and smelt ozone, like electricity was near. A fizzling sound later, Li stood over her, gently moving her.

"Michelle! Are you okay? What happened?"

She groaned. "I weird sounds from your office, so I went to check in. When I came out some total asshole rushed out of your office, punched me in the stomach, and ran off."

"Did you see what he looked like?" Li's voice had an almost demented edge to it.

"No, just that they was big," she coughed, trying to make it sound as throaty and real as possible. "He was wearing black."

She heard him mutter something through his teeth that, in part, sounded suspiciously like ' _Spider!_ '.

"Can you get up?" He asked her, going to move her.

"I'm fine! Just go and look for him, I'll just get an icepack from downstairs later." She made to get up, and flopped back down. "As soon as I stop feeling like throwing up. Ow."

"If you're sure?" Li nodded when she waved him off, and ran down the stairs.

Michelle waited until he was gone, and got up, cursing a bit when she felt pain on her back.

' _And now I have to spend the rest of the day with ice on my stomach while I look for evidence through Li's boring, boring paperwork,_ ' Michelle thought. She patter the book on her back pocket. ' _You better be worth it, you little shit. And the two superdorks better be thankful._ '

* * *

Kamala thought about a lot of things.

She thought about race, religion, the moral implications of the Avengers existing, sloths, how cool it is to be a hero, what it'd take to be an Avenger, and where she could get some martial arts classes to fight like Spider-Man.

After the doors burst out and a frickin' beach went to smother her friend to death, Ms. Marvel thought about how, sometimes, it felt like the universe gave some villains cooler powers just so heroes had to be creative in taking them out.

This thought was suddenly interrupted when one of Spidey's webs stuck to her back and pulled her onto the ground.

Through the sand, she heard Spider-Man scream, "SHRINK! NOW!"

Marvel disembiggened just in time to avoid two rectangular metal blades that went through the drywall and stuck into the ground where she'd just been. Thinking fast, she went through one of the holes the blades had just made, found the bad guy (some dude in a metal bird suit), and embiggened right in his face, with an extra embiggened fist smashing into him and throwing him through the wall and out of the building.

Marvel turned around just in time to see Spidey smash through the wall, land on his hands and flip onto his feet, glaring at the sand monster as it stood there on the hallway.

(A part of Kamala wondered if Spider-Man did those flips on purpose or if her got so used to flipping and swinging around that he gets itchy if he doesn't flip at least once during a fight.)

The sand monster gathered and slowly gathered and turned into a man. The analytical side of Kamala noted down his features. White, muscular, buzzcut, green striped shirt, scar on his chin, cocky attitude.

"You're pretty slick," the villain said in a heavy New York accent. "Most people can't find a way out after I start crushing."

"Okay," Spidey sounded extremely done. "I don't know about anyone else, but you're obviously from New York. Why the _fuck_ are you here?!"

"Why are _you_ here? You're from New York too," the Sand-guy pointed out.

"Because Mr. Negative is here!"

"Well, that he is. And he pays well."

Spidey raised a finger, stopped, rubbed his chin, and blinked.

"Well shit," he said. "You got me there."

He looked down, and muttered something to himself.

And then he jumped into the floor, avoiding more metal blades. One went through Sand-guy's face, but it just reformed once it was out of him. He _was_ frowning, though. So, yeah, silver linings?

The bird-person (and she was so done with bird people after the Edison bird scientist) flew up, and looked at them through the hole. His voice blared through a speaker. " **Octavius knew you would find him eventually, Spider-Man!** "

Spidey just stared at him, before looking down at Kamala. "Hey, you wanna handle Beach Body while I mop the floor with Big Bird over here?"

"Me? How am I going to fight him?" Marvel complained, "He's made of sand! I punch people!"

"Uh, I dunno, use the enviroment? That's what I do." He scratched his chin. "Just treat him like a sand castle. Easiest thing in the world to kick down."

"That's-" But Spider-Man was already jumping off and sticking two webs on Big Bird's chest.

Kamala turned around, and found Beach Body there, arms crossed.

' _Okay, okay, I can do_ _this._ ' Kamala thought, very much feeling like she couldn't do this. _'I just have to do what Jake does and use the enviroment! I'm sure there's a construction site around here, maybe I can trap him in cement, or-_ '

"Hey, if you want me to take it easy on you, no problem," Beach Body said, making soothing gestures with his hands. "I'd hate to hurt a lady."

...

Oh.

Hell.

The fuck.

Not!

Kamala's embiggened fist smashed into him, carried him through both brick walls of the elevator shaft, and out the building.

"So that's why he's always throwing people off of buildings," Kamala muttered.

As it turned out, Spidey wasn't lying. Tossing people off of buildings _was_ immensly effective and satisfying.

She rushed through the holes with stretched legs, and jumped down to find Beach Body reforming.

"Okay, don't wanna be treated like a lady? I can accommodate." He said. His right fist shifted to a spiky ball, and the other into a mallet.

Kamala knew, deep down, that she was going to win this.

She didn't have a plan, any ideas, and their powers were a bad match. But she knew, in the depths of her heart, that she wasn't going to lose.

Because she was absolutely not losing to some New York super-jerk.

"Bring it, Beach Body," she crowed back, both fist embiggened and ready.

"My name is Sandman!" He burst forward on a jet of sand. Kamala tried to jump out of the way, but he smacked her with the mace hand and sent her flying down the street.

"Ow. Noted." With a groan, Ms. Marvel stood up. She was in the middle of the street, but at least the cars had stopped in lieu of cape fight.

She nodded at one driver, who returned the gesture with a thumbs-up. Then she limped over to the sidewalk and stood up straight.

"Okay, take two: let's go!" she rushed him. When Sandman took another swing at her, she disembiggened to half-size, then once the spiked-ball hand was done swinging, she embiggened to double size and uppercutted Sandman in the same movement, sending him flying, bursting him into a cloud of sand.

Then she stretched her hands forward and shaped them into a ball as airtight as she could make around the mass of Sandman, reared back, and threw him as hard as she could with her embiggened muscles. Sandman screamed the whole flight, and Kamala covered her eyes from the sun with a hand as she watched the man complete the arc of his flight and smash into the docks.

' _I wonder if they fixed the damage from the Rhino fight already,_ ' Marvel mused, as she ran as fast as her embiggened legs could take her towards the docks. ' _Okay, now is thinking time, Kamala. You got him on the back leg, now you just have to push him the rest of the way. How do you do that?_ '

As half-finished plans swam around her head, Kamala reached the Docks with a jump and started to look for Sandman. She walked around the stacks, still embiggened to twice her normal size, but she couldn't find anything.

' _C'mon, Marvel! Where would you hide, if you were a man made of sand?_ '

The light went off in Kamala's head. Her fingers stretched and shifted to wrap around a stack of containers, and lifted them. Under it, she found a small amount of sand, but it rushed off under a different stack.

"Crap!" she dropped the stack as gently as she could in a hurry, disembiggened as much as she could, leaving her to the size of a bug, and ran to keep up with the sand.

She chased after it as it joined different clumps of sand under different stacks, the amount slowly growing. A look over her shoulder let her see that the same was happening under the other stacks, which drew a curse that'd get her mouth washed at home.

' _So it's a trap,_ ' she thought, then embiggened to normal size. ' _Let's see it, then._ '

The sand started gathering at one point in the middle of several rows. Marvel embiggened to 50% over her normal size and took a battle stance, but a clump of sand hit her on the back of the legs, sending her flying and making her fall on her butt. Before she could get up, sand started rushing over her, covering her completely. Thinking quickly, she grew as much as she could, twice her normal size, then shrunk down, leaving a big space, before exiting through a hole left over on a single stretched leg.

She barely had time to embiggen before the sand covered her leg and started crawling up.

"Gah!" she tried to shake him off, but he gathered back into a person and slammed a mace-hand onto her face, sending her reeling back. She stumbled and fell on her back on top of a stack, which crumbled and fell under her weight.

Sandman formed back into a person standing on her chest and smirked down on her. "Sorry about this, kid. But you're dealing with a professional."

"Lucky me," Kamala grumbled, before disembiggening as fast as she could. Sandman fell on the wrecked containers, and started looking around nervously.

"Oh, this again?" he complained. "I don't have the patience to look for-"

Before he could finish, a broom slammed through his head from behind. His head reformed and, after half a second to get his bearings, he turned around to find nothing.

"What the-"

Again, he was interrupted. This time, an entire kitchen sink (somewhat broken from having been inside a crushed container) slammed into his back, forcing him back into being sand and reforming. Sandman whipped around immidiately, but again found nothing.

"Where are you, you little pest?!"

An entire metal wall of a container rose up on two stretched hands and slammed down on him. Sandman reformed, and found a very angry Muslim superhero, with a body in normal size and two very large fists.

"Here." Sandman barely had time to cuss before two huge fists slammed into him. She smashed him into the ground repeatedly, waited until he reformed, and did it again. As Ms. Marvel had just confirmed, it took him a bit to get his bearings after transforming his head into and back from sand. She could use that.

She hit him with a huge uppercut, and sent him spinning into the air before he smashed into another stack of containers. She slammed both huge hands into it, and was about to squeeze and shake him into submission, but a sudden pain in her hands stopped her. She released Sandman to find he'd shifted into a spiked ball.

Once he fell to the ground, it took him a while to get his bearings and reshape into a person (and even then, he still looked a little green around the gills). Ms. Marvel, for her own part, had shrunk her hands to regular size and she was looking down on the bleeding holes on them.

"I am _never_ fighting a shapeshifter again," Kamala swore.

"Ditto," Sandman agreed, sounding like he was holding back vomit.

Before he could make sure that his breakfast stayed down, Marvel slammed a gigantic fist down on him once more, wincing with pain when she did so. Then she lifted the fist and did it again. And again. And again. Kamala kept hitting the spot, just praying that he'd stay down.

"You know I'm not there anymore, right?" She turned around, and got sent flying by a gigantic sledgehammer of sand.

She snapped out of it mid air, and barely kept it together to stretch her body into a paraglider shape. She let the wind carry her to the beach, where she just dropped in a disembiggened form. Her breathing was ragged and hurried, and her chest felt tight.

She ran down the beach, avoiding the eyes of people messing around on the sand, and hid behind a child's sand castle.

She couldn't do this. She'd lucked out against the Thomas Edison bird, it was just a dumb villain. This guy was serious business. She couldn't keep him down with punching, and that was her one type of attack! She didn't even know how to throw a punch!

She didn't have an utility belt and two ninja mentors like Spider-Man! She didn't have a million-dollar power armor like Iron Man! She didn't have lasers like Captain Marvel!

How was she supposed to keep down someone like Sandman?!

Kamala forced herself to take a deep breath. She held it in, then released it. She repeated the process a few times.

Was this how she was going to be, her whole life as a hero? Just scared?

... No. When she got her powers, she said she wanted to be like Captain Marvel. She wanted to be big, perfect, sexy, powerful. And she'd gotten power. Unlike so many others that prayed for special abilities, she _actually. Got. Powers_.

Who was she to let them go to waste?

She put a finger on her ear, activating the headphone Bruno had modified so it changed size with her.

"Call Bruno!" she hissed.

In one ring, her best friend picked up the phone. "Kamala! I'm watching the news, you're fighting some kind of sand guy?"

"Sandman." She confirmed. "I can't beat him with the usual punching goodness. Any ideas?"

"Um," she heard papers flying through the air as her best friend tried to find a blank one. Soon enough, he did, and Kamala could hear scribbling on it. "Okay, this is just a guess, but I don't think he's in every bit of sand. The news footage shows him turning into some guy with a green shirt?"

"Yeah?"

"Right. What happens when he reforms his head? Does it take him a second?"

Kamala blinked. "Uh, less than one, but yeah?"

"Great! This is my theory: You'd need a brain the size of a skyscraper to spread it across all that sand and control every single bit directly. There must be a small clump of sand that doesn't move or interact with stuff like regular sand. Your problem is that it's literally like looking for hay in a haystack." Bruno cleared his throat. "Didn't Spider-Man have any advice?"

"That I use my enviroment and treat him like a sandcastle," Kamala scoffed. "It doesn't even make sense! Sandcastles crumble because they have..."

She stopped. Without thinking, one hand went to the sandcastle she'd been hiding behind.

It was wet with saltwater.

Wet.

Saltwater.

A huge grin literally stretched Kamala's face. "Bruno?"

"You got a plan?"

"I got a plan!" she hung up without another word, and stretched to regular size, then embiggened to triple size, and then to five times her size, more than she'd ever done before. It was exhausting, and she had the horrible image of her running out of energy and ripping out of her skin, but she grit her teeth and kept it up.

She had a plan. She had a plan, and she was going to see it through. Since the whole mess with Negative happened, she had to face honorable villains and dirty cops that wounded her for _money_. Thieves followed stricter codes of conduct than policemen, sworn to uphold justice and law. And yeah, she always knew that cops could be racist jerks, but she didn't think they'd ultimately _all_ side with crooks over heroes.

Nothing, Kamala was realizing, was as it should be.

But that's why people like Captain Marvel, Iron Man, and Spider-Man put on the masks. That's why _she_ put on the mask. Because things needed to be as they should be, and they weren't going to get like that on their own. Someone needed to do something, and for once, she was following that statement with the words ' _and that someone is **ME!**_ '.

So Kamala Khan was going to take her plan and use it to put Sandman behind bars. Because she was a hero.

Because she was Ms. Marvel.

People were gathering around her and taking pictures, but the hero just stared down at the beach. Sandman didn't act like an intelligent fighter. Most likely, he'd think he had an upper hand on the beach. She was going to prove him wrong.

Before her, the beach rose up, people falling as it gathered into a center, rising up and shaping into an anthropomorphic blob with holes for eyes and a mouth.

" **WELL, WELL, WELL,** " Sandman said, his voice a powerful rumble that shook the air and sent Marvel's hair whipping about. " **YOU'RE DONE** **HIDING?** "

"Oh, you better believe it," Kamala said, grinning. She jumped away from a sudden swing from Sandman, and landed in the sea. She made a come-hitter gesture with a finger.

Sandman chased after her, civilians scrambling away as he rushed into the water. Out of the corner of her eye, Marvel could see the bottom of Sandman turn to mud and falling apart as it came into contact with the sea. Given enough time, he'd probably sink into the sea on his own. But Kamala wasn't going to let some guy drift endlessly on the ocean, and she needed to melt him fast anyways.

She slammed a titanic fist against his face, and the sand flew away into the sea. Ms. Marvel wore a defiant grin, even though a huge fist of sand slammed into her gut faster than it should have been able to. She retaliated with another fist into Sandman's face, but the crook hit her on the back of her knees and threw her on her back. Sandman jumped onto her chest, and slammed a fist on her face over and over. But Ms. Marvel was still smiling, and that clearly unnerved the criminal.

" **WHAT IS IT?! WHAT ARE YOU...** " The voice wasn't as deep as it had just been, thought it was still very loud.

Sandman, significantly reduced, looked down with a slack jaw (or the giant sand mountain equivalent of one) and then up at Ms. Marvel.

" **YOU SNEAKY LITTLE SHIT!** " He sounded like he couldn't decide between being suprised, amused, or terrified. " **I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE!** "

"That was the idea," Marvel said, panting slightly.

She was getting tired fast, keeping her huge form, but she didn't stop. She wrapped her giant hands around Sandman, and flipped onto her side, dunking him in the water. The sand shifted around her hands, and started crawling up her arms, some bits barely escaping the water.

" **I'm not going down without a fight!** " It screamed, the voice coming from everywhere, though very reduced, as the sand rushed up her arms and over her neck.

Marvel didn't answer. She just let herself finally disembiggen, back down to insect size.

' _Too bad I didn't think of a cool one-liner,_ ' Marvel mused, as her tiny body sank into the water. ' _Maybe something about 'the bigger they are' and stuff? Nah, that's overdone._ '

She let herself go to normal size and lifted her head above the water, pushing aside the mud that covered everything. Her eyesight was blurry and dark around the edges, but she splashed water on her face and shook her head to force herself to stay awake.

Once she saw all the sand had turned to mud, she grew to double size again, though a lot of pain exploded from everywhere when she did so, and she started looking through the mud. She let out a relieved sigh when she found a small golden mound of sand, floating on top an island of mud.

She wrapped it in her hands and stuffed it inside the compartment on her golden bracelet, which closed hermetically, thanks to some mods from Bruno.

' _Bruno,_ ' she thought, ' _I should get him something nice for helping me._ '

She stumbled to the beach, and looked around at the panic civilians, slowly disembiggening.

"Everyone okay?" She got startled nods in reply, and she sighed. "Okay. That's good. That's really good."

She stumbled away from the beach, but stopped when she saw a young man around her age pointing his camera phone at her.

"You're recording?" she asked him. He nodded. "Right, in that case, I have a few words for one Mr. Negative, notorious crime lord piece of crap. You think you can threaten Jersey people and profit off of them? I got a message for you: This is Jersey City. We talk loud, we walk fast, and we don't take any disrespect. _Don't mess_."

The guy recording whispered ' _oh, snap!_ ' and recorded her as she walked away with only some slight limping.

' _Yeah, I'm doing_ _fine,_ ' Kamala thought with a smirk, before blinking. ' _I wonder how Michelle and Jake are doing?_ '

* * *

"Fucking bird people," I groaned, hiding in an alley and looking over the skin-deep cut that ran down my side. "Why am I always getting my ass kicked by assholes that look like birds?"

Yeah, the fight wasn't going great.

" **Come out, little bug!** " Vulture called, flying overhead in circles.

Also that! Osborn did the same shit! That tears it, flying's officially a douchebag's ability.

Except for America Chavez. Mad respect for Chavez.

I actually looked her up and I think I found her instagram a little before the whole Jersey thing, maybe I should introduce her to Kate Bishop, see if I can get them to hook-

[Square blades cutting through the air]

I jumped away, and landed in a rough tumble. Then I had to stick a web to a wall and pull myself away from a car's path.

"Get out of the road, jackass!" the asshole driver shouted at me.

"HEY, I'M FIGHTIN' HERE!" I screamed back, and immidiately got embarrassed. God, I hoped no one recorded that. I stood up, and looked up at Vulture, flying high above the Jersey skyline. I sighed. "I miss New York."

And yeah, sure. The vermin are so big that the rats are basically indistinguishable from your average college student and the cockroaches might mug you if you don't pay the protection racket, but it was home. I missed the tall buildings, and the rude douchebags, and the expensive crappy coffee and the awesome cheap coffee, not to mention the greatest skyline of any city that has ever been, or will ever be.

After this shit, I was taking a big long swing around Manhattan. Just to enjoy the polluted air.

' _But now,_ ' I glared at the Vulture, who was probably aiming at me or something. 'This _guy._ '

I ran up the wall, jumped off of it, and used a web line to swing up into the air, where I just spun in place.

I looked his way, as he threw five feather-blades at me. I waited until was about to hit me, stuck to the side, and jumped off of it into a different one. Then, onto another one, dodging the fourth one, before walking along the fifth one and arriving at Vulture. I met him with a punch to the face, and stuck a web to his back. I pulled myself onto it, and stuck with Spider Cling as he spun around, trying to throw me off.

"And now, to ground the bird," I growled, before slamming a fist into the back-

[- - -]

I slammed through one window and several floors and walls before I snapped out of the shock and stopped myself with a web I fired blindly. I hung from the ceiling for a second before I dropped, waiting for the ringing in my ears to go down.

I shook my head and looked around. Apparently, I was in an office of some sort, surrounded by people looking at me. I got up on wobbling legs and stumbled a bit, before catching myself against a wall.

Some guy in a white shirt and black tie walked over and offered me a foam cup full of water from the cooler. I nodded at him, downed it in a gulp, and shook my head again.

"Where am I?" I asked him.

"The accounting department. You kinda slammed through the roof. I'm Chad."

"Right. Right-right-right." I shook my head again and slapped a hand against the side of my head. I looked up the hole I fell through and found Vulture standing there. "Thanks for the help, Chad."

"No problem."

I changed my almost empty web cartridges and swung out of the building, coming face to face with Vulture. His wings were folded, and his arms were folded. I could tell he was faking being relaxed.

"You know," I said. "I'm getting pretty sick of your inventor pals."

" **They** 're a p **ain** t **o wor** k for," he admitted, his voice modifier switching on and off through it. "B **ut the t** oy **s** a **r** e nice **.** "

I didn't bother with more bantering, instead rushing forward and slamming a fist into his stomach. He tried to dodge, but his wings slowed him down and he made choking sounds as he stumbled back from the hit. I was a bit surprised, as he just kind stumbled pathetically.

So the forcefield or whatever it was that hit me back spent most of his energy, then? If so, the fight was going to end pretty-

His wings unfolded and he shot into the air. He zoomed away to gain some distance, while I just stared in shock.

I took a deep breath, closed my eye, and let it out in a long sigh.

' _Typical,_ ' I thought, before jumping off of the building and chasing after him. ' _Okay, so I have a plan._ _I need to get him somewhere he can't fly as well, trigger his defenses, and take him down fast. Now how do I do that?_ '

I chased after him for a while, until I glimpsed something from the corner of my eye.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "Yes. Yes! Hell yes! Hell fucking yes!"

I swung around a building, cut off Vulture, and directed him towards the construction site.

"I've been waiting for a fight in one of these since I put on the fucking mask!" I said, sticking two web lines to his wings and slingshotting myself into Vulture's stomach, sending him flying towards the structure while I backflipped away, still holding the web lines.

So far, the place only had those big red iron things set up, like the skeleton of the building. Vulture tried to stop himself from entering it, but I used the two lines to throw myself against him once more, forcing him into it.

I sat on one of the red iron beams as Vulture struggled to fit his wings through the beams.

" **You think you're clever?** "

I lifted up my mask and blew him a kiss, before pulling it back down.

He growled something unintelligible and tried to shoot feather blades at me, but by the time he got his wings aiming at where I was, I'd already left. I was running around the iron beams, using webs and Spider Cling to run circles around him, shooting webs at him every so often to stick him against different beams.

I pulled out my batons and threw them in different directions, both bouncing around until hitting him and then bouncing back to me, where I threw them again. This went on for a while until he finally screamed in frustration and spun in a circle, cutting the beams and webs recklessly. I waited with halted breath to see if the construction was going to collapse while he rose above the construction, smashing beams on his way. It shook a little, but seemed to hold.

" **Enough!** " With that scream, Vulture raised a hand and made a gesture. His wings opened up, and eight small drones came out, which started chasing after me. " **Let's see you deal with this!** "

Before he was done talking, I was already running up the construction. I jumped, caught two drones with web lines and smashed them into each other with a large explosion.

I really wish I could have seen his face.

The six remaining drones chased after me, so I just dropped into the construction.

They split up and went after me in two formations of three each. They probably had a bunch of strategies programmed, but I just tossed two web bombs and caught five of them in large webs, while I snatched one away from the web bomb and carried it with me up the construction.

" **Oh that's just bull-** "

I smashed the drone against his back with my eye close, and even then the flash of light left me blind. I had to use the spider cling and webs to keep the soundwave from sending me flying. My ears rang, and I couldn't see. But I still had my sense of touch intact.

[Something metallic slamming into one of the iron beams and breaking]

I threw myself forward and down, and grabbed blindly until one of my hands found the Vulture. I groped around, grabbed his helmet, wrapped my legs around his torso, and shot weblines blindly until I managed to stop our fall. Still blind, I did my best to tear apart his wings before they recovered, and tore off his mask before slamming a fist into his face.

When I recovered, I gathered all the bits and pieces of his wings, tore up his remaing drones at a distance by throwing my batons at them, and pulled out my phone.

I waited as it rang, Vulture wrapped in a cocoon at my feet while I sat down against a huge chunk of wing.

Finally, she picked up. "Spider?"

"Hey, Nat," I said. I put a finger to my ear and pulled it away, finding blood leaking from it. "Would you mind helping me with this villain I caught? I'm in Jersey and I don't know which cops I can trust."

Of course, that brought questions.

While I talked, I wondered how Michelle and Kamala were doing. I was sure Kam was able to handle Sandman, but I felt pretty bad about ditching her like that. Hopefully she wouldn't hold a grudge or think I'm a dick.

* * *

"You're a jerk!"

"Well, that's a slightly better reaction than what I expected, I guess."

We'd met up by Liberty State Park, as agreed on via text message. Vulture was still wrapped up and knocked out at my feet, while Kamala had Sandman in her bracelet. The two of us were resting side-by-side on a bench, after I'd gotten there first.

"Seriously, we're doing a team-up! You can't just ditch me to fight bird people!"

"It's not like I _like_ fighting bird people, it just keeps happening." I grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm still getting the hang of being a team player."

"Hmph!" she dramatically folded her arms and turned her head. I was about to make some dickish comment, when I saw her hands were bleeding.

"Jesus, what happened?" I grabbed her wrist and looked her hand over.

"Sandman turned into a spiked ball in my hand. Because I grabbed him. _Because I don't have weapons, Spider!_ "

I didn't listen, I just pulled a roll of bandages from my utility belt I started keeping there after the Rhino fight and wrapped up her hands. "This isn't perfect, but I'll help you out more once we get to Circle Q, or your house."

"Hm," Marvel didn't say anything, but she gave me her other hand once I finished wrapping it up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'm still mad."

"You're right to be."

She glared at me while I finished wrapping up her hand. "You suck."

"And swallow, too. Spitters are quitters."

She probably would have smacked me or something, but a Quinjet descended over the park, and Natasha dropped down on a rope, so Kam was busy gaping while I got up, Vulture over one shoulder.

I dropped him down and stretched out my arms for a hug. "Nat!"

She punched me in the stomach. It wasn't enough to double over, but I still felt a bit hurt. Emotionally, mostly.

"You don't call me for weeks, not a peep, and suddenly you show up in the middle of an anti-crime lord operation? In _Jersey?_ " She had her arms folded. "And only because you need someone to cart away a villain."

"Man, I just keep nailing it today," I muttered, before clearing my throat. "Look, Natasha, I'm sorry. I didn't want to bother you with some two-bit crime lord."

She scoffed, before looking down at my side. "You're hurt?"

"Just s scratch. Barely did more than cut the suit."

"You should get some armor."

"I have armor."

"You should get _better_ armor."

"Yeah, that's fair," I admitted. "So we're fine?"

"I'm going to poison your drink the next time we get brunch," she said, before reaching over and patting my head. "But yes. We're fine."

I smiled, and gave a little kick to the Vulture. "Awesome. This is only one of the two villains, by the way."

"Where's the other one?"

I pointed over my shoulder at Ms. Marvel, who was listening in with an obviously stretched ear. That wasn't how ears worked _at all_ , but this is a comic universe with comic physics, so who freaking knows if she could actually hear us.

"That's the new Ms. Marvel." Natasha raised an eyebrow. "How did you two meet?"

"Happenstance and chance and rhinos," I shrugged. "So S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about her?"

"Yes. Not much, though." she finished with a careless shrug. "We don't pay close attention to unregistereds unless they reach the A-List, and she's B at best."

"I'd get ready to change that assesment pretty soon." I muttered, watching as Marvel walked over, taking off her bracelet wordlessly. "Do you have something that can contain a villain made of sand in the plane?"

"Probably. This is an Avengers Quinjet, so Tony messes with it every so often. I'm sure the containment cell's forcefield is tight enough to hold it."

"I'm bursting with joy at your confidence, Widow." She punched my shoulder lightly, but grinned at me.

"U-um," Kamala cleared her throat and tried to speak seriously, though it came out more like a squeak. "Ms. Widow, ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have your autograph, please?" She took a deep breath. "I know you must get this all the time but I'm such a big fan of you and I really wanted to ask how those two wrist-mounted machineguns you used to wear worked and why you stopped wearing them and if maybe you could mentor me like you mentored Spider-Man I know you probably did because of the Spider thing but I really want to be a better fighter I'm sorry if it's a bother and I'm rambling I need to stop rambling oh god shut up me."

I blinked, then turned to look at Natasha. "Did you catch all of that? Because I absolutely didn't."

"Big fan. Wants to know about the wrist guns. Wants a mentor." She listed off. "In order: I appreciate it, they worked poorly and exploded on me more than a few times so I stopped using them, and no, sorry. Some else has dibs on you being their trainee."

"Really? Who?"

In lieu of answering, Natasha pointed at the lightning on Kamala's costume. As soon as the penny dropped in her head, the smile on Marvel's face stretched as far as her face allowed, which was a lot considering her powers.

I was glad for her. She hadn't really asked for permission before taking the name, so it must've been a relief to know that Danvers didn't just approve of her being Ms. Marvel, but actually wanted to train her.

Before I could react, which was saying something, Natasha's hand whipped out and grabbed me by the ear. "Listen up, little Spider. I don't care how you've been doing things until now, but I expect you to keep me updated. If you insist on getting hurt, I might as well be there to get you help after it's all done. Understood?"

"Ow! Yeah, sure, just stop twisting!" She released my ear, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gave me a quick noogie. It was then that I realized a crowd had already gathered and were taking pictures of the whole thing. "C'mon, I have a reputation!"

I just knew Shocker was going to make jokes next time we fought.

Natasha returned Marvel's bracelet after dumping Sandman in a containment cell, pulled another promise to call from me, and left on the Quinjet.

Kam looked like she wanted to say something about the noogie, but I just ran and swung away after quickly telling her we'd meet at her house out of costume. I think I heard her cursing a bit at me, but I was struck by a very sudden case of deafness.

How odd.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **And so ends the longest chapter to date, with over 10k words. I'm exhausted, I hate the Spidey/Vulture fight, and my beta will probably mock me for it, but I'm glad I got it finished.  
**

 **Now there's only the last chapter of this arc, and then there's another Web chapter. Next chapter might take a while, though.**

 **No, it's not going to be about WW2 Jake.**

 **EDIT: My beta did not mock me for it. Guy's too nice.**


	28. Think Positive, Unless You're Negative

**Chapter #25: Think Positive, Unless You're Negative.  
**

* * *

School.

The ticking of the clock rang out and bounced off the walls, at least to my senses. We were in a particularly unseasonably hot day, as winter fell away in favour of the early sunbeams of spring, which reflected from what was left of the snow. My jacket and hoodie had been hung over my chair, and I had been ignoring the teacher's prattling for the last five minutes in favour of doodling dragons and bunnies on the margin of my pages.

My right elbow rested on the table, stretching upwards into a fist upon which my cheek laid. My sole remaining eye rolled around, searching the room for something to keep me entertained as the teacher talked about Manifest Destiny. The red marker squeaked as it left a trail of inky red felt on the whiteboard, and I caught the barest hints of the ink's alcohol smell.

My eye lazily drifted to the guy sitting diagonally forward and to the right of me. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his cheek, bumping and rolling off of some zits before he wiped it away. The heartbeat of the girl sitting behind me rose a little as she read a text under the table. A guy sitting at the front farted, and tried to discreetly wave the smell away, only succeeding in pushing it to the guy to his right, who smelled it and sent him a look he didn't notice.

My sight drifted back to the clock on the wall. The minute hand ticks one number forward. Five more minutes until class ends.

' _I'm in hell._ '

With a sigh, I rub my eye and clamp my teeth down on the inside of my cheek _hard_ , and the pain sharpens everything into focus. I look up, copy everything on the whiteboard fast, and finish a doodle of a dragon breathing flaming bunnies down on a chubby Super Rabbit. The drawing is supremely shitty, but not unrecognizable, so I leave it be.

Maybe I could draw a cat next?

* * *

"I swear if something exciting doesn't happen I'm going to set this fucking building on fire."

Surprisingly, it wasn't me that said it. Unsurprisingly, it was MJ.

"I know how you feel," I grumble. We're sitting in the Art classroom, eating lunch since no one else is there. "Widow warned me off of the investigation, so now I'm just simmering in my own investigative juices."

"Gross." She says, before taking a bite out of her sandwich. Mouth full, she asks, "How come you can't help out?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s full of little bitches that want to arrest me," I huff. "So now the mooks and the Avengers have standing orders to detain me if I try to help. That's the U.S. brand of gratitude for you."

It'd been less than a week since the double fight with Sandman and Vulture. MJ and I hadn't been able to talk much, since Li told her parents about 'the thief that hurt her' and they'd grounded her so she learned her lesson about not running towards loud noises.

She'd managed to get Li's Little Lexicon of Lowlife Lads (or his notebook full of criminal contacts, if you have a thing against alliteration) to Kam, though, who got it to me, and I gave it to Nat.

Thanks to that, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been rounding up every low life in Jersey affiliated with Negative directly or indirectly, as the man's house of cards fell around him. The organization was keeping Li himself under watch while they gathered solid evidence of his involvement, but some coded messages from Nat (delivered by Matt when I stopped by his place on the weekend) said that they were real close.

Nothing on Octavius, though. That, if I knew my comics (and I abso-fucking-lutely did), meant that he'd eventually have a big fight with me while Negative escaped to lick his wounds and plan his revenge.

"In any case," I started. "It looks like there's not long until Midtown's fixed."

Mostly thanks to some donations by one Tony Stark. According to Nat, he likes me being in the same city as him so he doesn't have to travel far to catch me if I step out of line. What a fucking blowhard.

"Oh," Michelle said, face going blank. "I mean, that's great."

"Eh," I shrugged. "School's school. It'll be nice to hang out with Peter, Gwen and Flash, but I'll miss you and Kam."

"... do you just have a maximum of three friends per city?" MJ asked.

"What? No, I-" I stopped to think about it. "Sonuva whore, I think I do. Wait, no, I have other friends! Holy shit, I have like seven friends in New York alone, that's a lot more than I thought I had."

MJ snorted, but her face went blank again soon after. I looked at her curiously, and thought that maybe I should do something. But the way her lips were pressed together made me think she probably had something she was working up to saying, so I just decided to be sensible for once and stay quiet.

"I'll miss you too," she finally said. "Like, I don't have a lot of friends either, and it was nice to talk with you."

"Thanks," I said, genuinely flattered. "We could still hang out, though. It pretty much takes me like ten minutes to swing around from New York to here and back."

"Oh, yeah, sure," MJ said, nodding.

I waited for her to say more, and so did she.

So I waited for her to realize I was waiting and say something, and so did she.

So I waited for her to notice that it just wasn't happening. So did she.

Hm. This was getting increasingly awkward. Seems that I had to start the conversation.

... how did I start conversations, again?

FUCK! Okay, quick, think of something to talk about.

The weather? Fuck no. That never goes anywhere.

People in New York? That'd just get awkward fast! Come on, think, stupid!

What would Peter do in my shoes? Flounder awkwardly, same as me.

What about Gwen? Wait, Gwen!

"Concert?"

"What?"

Shit!

"Uh, I meant to say..." I cleared my throat and tried again. "Gwen, Peter's girlfriend, plays the drums in a band, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me and see them play?"

"Are they any good?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" I shrugged. "I'd like to say I have faith in Gwen and her band, but I literally never heard her play anything so..."

"Shining endorsement there, Jake." MJ chuckled, before shrugging. "Um, yeah. Where is it?"

"The Bar. It's basically a nightclub where villains meet."

MJ's eyes widened and they got a worrying gleam. "Dude. I'm _so_ in."

* * *

It was a few days before Midtown was completely fixed that I knew I was due my big fight.

It started with a call from Nat shortly after I woke up.

"We're getting ready to roll in Negative. Probably within the week." She said, in lieu of something like 'hello'. "Thought you should know."

"Thanks." I said. "What-"

She hung up.

That's the thing about talking with Nat. You didn't. Nat talked to you, and maybe she let you participate.

It could get annoying.

I briefly wondered, as I got ready for the day, why she didn't just text me, before I realized that it was probably so whoever tapped her phones (S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony Stark, and maybe HYDRA) knew that I knew. There was probably a huge spy game thing there, with quadruple agents and some more spy bullshit.

I just met up with MJ and Kam at the Circle Q and dragged them over to the back room to tell them the news.

"That's great!" Kam said.

"Except it's not," I said, making a 'chill out' gesture. "We still don't know where Octavius is."

"Right," MJ said. "We need to tie that loose end, or Negative will be out before we know it."

No, that didn't make sense. Doctor Octopus could barely stand to work with others, let alone be somebody's henchman. If Negative got caught, Otto would just go into hiding to plan for my destruction.

I put a hand to my chin and frowned. Dammit, where could he be? It had to make sense, but it had to fit narratively with his character. I'd been trying to figure this out since Vulture confirmed that Doc Ock was involved, and though I had some ideas, I hadn't managed to confirm anything. I could go around, but it could end up being a serious waste of time.

... I had to find him. Loose ends eventually tied into nooses around my neck.

"Kam?" I said. "I'm going to miss a few days. I'm putting everything into finding Octavius."

"Why are you so focused on this guy?" MJ asked. "I get you have a thing with Norman Osborn-" she gracefully ignored the wince that pulled my expression at the name, "And this guy is probably trouble, but you're weirdly focused on this."

I tapped my foot, trying to come up with a quick explanation.

"It's... _complicated,_ " I tried. "Not just because of OsCorp. For one, I don't think letting mad scientists hang around and _prepare_ is smart. And he will. I can tell you right now he's not with Negative because they're buddies."

"How? You yourself admitted to never having met the guy." Kamala said.

I winced.

' _Stupid. Idiot. You said too much._ '

"Look. I'd _like_ to talk about this, but I _can't_. Not out of a lack of trust for you." Well, kind of. I didn't trust they wouldn't think I was crazy if I explained the details of my reincarnation.

Maybe if it was just that. Gwenpool earned Bartroc the Leaper and her other friends' trust when they eventually started taking her word about the tropes and, in the case of Bartroc, even believed her about comic-world being a comic.

But I was Spider-Man _and_ I was reincarnated _and_ I originated, in mind at the very least, from a different world where all around me was a comic of some sort. Or at the very least a poorly written fanfiction, if I let myself have a minor existential crisis at the possibility of this being a Self-Insert Scenario.

Comic Book characters have _one_ extremely weird thing about them. Maybe more to justify it and/or make them fit in the world around them.

Peter Parker and his Powers, with his incredible intelligence to justify why he was at that science show and to make him fit in a world where 'genius' meant a whole lot more than you'd think.

The Fantastic Four, with Reed Richards being the most intelligent and least wise man around to explain _why_ the whole incident happened.

The X-Men and the X-Gene, with each of their powers giving them an unique individual fuck-upedness. Similar with the Inhumans.

It wasn't always there, sometimes heroes had a hundred weird things about them, like Cable's cyborg-psychic-mutant-time-travelling ass, but they were the oddities born in the 90's.

Not to mention that arbitrary skepticism was very much a force in this world of marvels. Look at how Miles acted with Gwenpool.

"Just..." I raised a hand. "Just, _please_ trust me."

"Okay." Kamala said.

... oh.

"Wait, just like that?" I asked.

"I mean, I like knowing stuff, but it's fine if you can't tell us." Michelle shrugged. "You're like, a spy-ninja and stuff. It makes sense you can't talk about some things."

"Oh."

Good, kind people. Easier to find than you'd think, but very much worth having around.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll make a call to my folks and have them cover for me, then I'll go investigate."

"Your parents just let you miss school for heroing?" Kamala asked. "Aren't they worried about your education?"

"In the same vague sense that they worry about global warming," I said. "It's something that will eventually cost us, but between everything else going on, it feels weird to worry about it, so they don't think about it too much."

Huh. That metaphor fit way better than it should.

"Anyway, we should talk about what you two should do while I'm hunting this bespectacled dick-"

"Ew!"

"-I heard it as soon as I said it, sorry."

* * *

May and Ben had been quick to assure me they'd make sure the school wouldn't make a fuss over me disappearing for a while.

This freed me up to do my rounds.

Now, when it came to mad scientist lairs in fiction, they really could fit anywhere if that was all that set them apart from other villains. A mad scientist can set up shop wherever they please, from literally _inside_ an active volcano to outer goddamned space. If that was all I knew about Doc Ock, I'd be well and truly fucked.

But I knew more. I knew his pride would mean he'd stay near NYC or Jersey for the sake of facing off with me. I knew he had a whole totem-mystic-obsession thing with octopi, so he'd be near or in water. And since I was in a Spider-Man story, it'd probably be inside an abandoned warehouse.

(Seriously, how many bad guys has 616-Peter fought in abandoned warehouses? It's nuts.)

So, two days after my chat with Kam and MJ, I was checking out the beachfront properties in Jersey after texting Overdrive to check on how he was doing and if he could do the same in NYC. As it turned out, Overdrive was feeling a tad overwhelmed with all the crime in New York, but he said he felt happy and fulfilled. He also told me he'd do his rounds when he could, but I wasn't too confident on his detective skills.

Luckily, I didn't need to be. Overdrive going around was just me covering all bases. I knew Octavius would be here if Overdrive went around looking for him, because it'd be more dramatic that way. If I hadn't, I'd stumble into an empty lab rigged to explode, and find that Otto had snuck away into my city, where he'd secretly prepare some convoluted scheme that I'd stumble into three days before it came into motion giving me just enough time to stop him.

Comics. What can you do?

So there I was, most of my suit hidden uncomfortably under a closed hoodie, my leather jacket, and jeans. I didn't have shoes on, but even if it wasn't New York City, it was the _state_ of New York. There were weirder things going on than some guy walking around with just Spider-Man themed socks on his feet. I had a backpack with most of my equipment.

It took until almost dusk for me to find something. I was doing a second sweep when I heard something from a warehouse I was sure I'd already passed.

[Metal panels sliding against metal panels, covering cables and moving around, lifting heavy boxes and setting them down carelessly, accompanied by the sound of power tools. All of it stopping when I walked past the building, but now that it had my attention, I could hear someone hissing curses]

' _Ah,_ ' I thought, holding back a smile as I just walked past the building, commiting the address to memory. ' _I finally found you, you robot-limbed fucker. I'd bet good money the doors and windows are trapped, too._ '

I walked about a block past it as I sent a text to MJ then snuck into an alley, changed into my supersuit (leaving the civilian clothes in my backpack and my backpack in the alleyway) and then dropped into the sewers through an easily removed manhole cover.

"Thank god for conveniently spacious sewers," I muttered, crawling on the roof and breathing through my mouth. "If anyone ever changes these so that they're too small for me, I'm fucked."

I walked around until I could hear Ock's lab over me.

[Damn arachnid, how did it know where to find me?]

[The metal of his tentacles sliding around.]

[No matter, I'm done here. I just have to set the explosives and I will be good to go.]

Yeah, no.

I crawled up to the sewer roof then looked around and found a large, important-looking pipe. Using a baton to make a hole on the side, I shoved a few activated web bombs inside then sealed it shut with a web. I crawled away from it until the pipe inflated suddenly and started creaking from the increasing pressure.

[What the-?]

[Gallons of shitwater violently erupting from the toilet like a fireman's hose, bouncing off of the ceiling and a wall.]

[OH NO!]

[Water smashing into two iron tentacles as two more limbs carry a body away from the shitlake that was forming in the bathroom.]

[Why is this happening?!]

Picking that as my cue, I smashed a fist against the ceiling a couple of times until a hole big enough for me was made, and I crawled through it.

Doctor Otto Octavius wasn't exactly as spherical as many comics and cartoons portrayed him. He had love handles, but it was mainly due to him being short and not getting outside much. From his back protuded four long tentacles made of interlocking metallic plates, finishing in four-pronged claws with blue lights coming from the middle. He wore a green bodysuit under a previously-pristine white labcoat and he had two shining green goggles over his eyes.

"Hello, doctor," I said. "I believe we're due for a little heart-to-"

* * *

"You remember the plan?" MJ asked.

"Yes, and I can't believe we're doing this," Kamala sighed, as she wrapped her mask around her face and became Ms. Marvel. "Why are we going with Ja- Spidey's plan? This is so much more... morally gray than my usual tactics."

"Well, tailing him hasn't really worked out," MJ pointed out. The two had been stalking Martin Li after school ever since Spider-Man told them he was going to go look for Octavius. That had been three days ago.

The day before, Jake had sent a message saying he'd found his guy, but he hadn't gotten in touch yet. He'd been ready for this, creepily enough, and had told them before that if he suddenly stopped messaging they should just keep acting as normal. And normal wasn't working, so it was time for Plan B.

"No matter what, Jake can't find out this was my idea, okay?"

MJ just smirked at her as she put on a ski mask.

* * *

Martin Li had been leading what many could call a stressful life for the last couple of days.

His alter-ego's criminal empire had been crumbling, which would be wonderful except Li was in the sad position of sharing a head with said failing crime lord-

 **[NOT FAILING. THIS WAS A MERE SETBACK.]**

-who'd done nothing but complain and force Martin to run around doing errands for the last week or so. Martin had been running around trying to patch holes in a ship that was starting to resemble swiss cheese while trying to keep people from jumping it, making empty promises in Negative's name as he looked everywhere for Spider-Man's illusive ass.

Bordellos, safehouses and crackhouses were being raided. Labs were getting smashed before they could be moved. Dealers were arrested off the street and the businesses Negative was using to launder money were being investigated and getting caught, F.E.A.S.T. included. And it was all happening with expert coordination with a fucking Avenger at the front, who'd been spotted holding Mister Negative's little black book.

And yet, Spider-Man refused to show his webbed head.

The fact that **they** - _nonottheyjustNegative_ -had been outwitted by a known teenager was just salt in the wound, at this point.

Although the cream on the cake was probably the way a gigantic arm swooped down and grabbed Martin right off of the street and raised him upside-down to be eye-to-eye with Ms. Marvel, who was standing on a rooftop with some girl wearing a black ski mask.

"Hello there, Jekyll." The girl with the black ski mask said, obviously deepening her voice as she walked over and tapped him in the head. "Can Hyde come out and play?"

"What?" Li said. Did they have the wrong person? Or was it a reference he didn't get?

"We know about negative, Martin," Ms. Marvel said, "Switch or I drop you."

"Oh!" Yeah, that made more sense.

...

" **W** H **A** T? **!** " oh shit **oh shit** oh shit-

"How do you not know about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" the ski mask girl asked, almost offended. "How? Even if you never read it, just by osmosis you should-"

"Can we focus, please?" Marvel looked exhausted. "Look, there's no point in playing dumb, so just-"

"I-I-I don't know anything about Negative! I'm just a bussiness owner! A cool one! I use memes and everything!" **Lie, lie, lie!** Martin **had** to bullshit his way out of this **and fast!**

 _But, didn't he want to get caught?_

 **No, he could do more if he wasn't in jail. Negative's crimes could be redeemed as they were done** **, and then** **some.**

"I don't know anything about N-split personalities!"

Marvel and the other girl exchanged a look, before turning back towards him.

It caught Martin by surprise when Ms. Marvel suddenly dropped him. So much so that he didn't even register her saying, "I really hope this works."

The ground was coming in fast and he wasn't going to make it he was going to die he couldn't die he had so much work left to do **they** had so much work left **they** couldn't d **i** e **they** c **oul** dn't d **ie y** e **t not** y **et not yet no-**

 **[NOT.]**

 **YET.**

 **Energy burst out of Li, wiping the man away and leaving only the demon as the tendrils of pure power smashed against the broadwalk and cushioned the fall.**

 **Spinning around in the air, Mister Negative landed gracefully on his feet and looked up at those insignificant worms that dared bother him.**

" **You have just made the last and greatest mistake of your miserable lives.** "

"Oh good," **the rubbery bitch said in a flat tone,** "It worked."

* * *

Awareness came back with all the gentleness and grace of an elephant tossed by Bruce Banner on a bad day.

"Gah!" It took me a second to take in my surroundings. I was in a different base than the one I found Octavius in; everything was sleek black metal with green lights, I was trapped in some kind of machine with clamps around my hands and feet, and I could see the back of Doc Ock as he worked on a computer in front of me.

He turned and smiled at me, goggles around his neck. "Hello, Spider-Man. I believe we're due for a little heart-to-heart."

Fucker stole my cool line. Can't even resent him that one, it was very well used.

"Fuck you!"

Just kidding, I absolutely resented him.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **IT LIVES! IT LIIIIIIIIIVES!**

 **But seriously, that was one goddamned bitch of a writer's block right there. Future readers, to give you an idea of how long this was, I'm putting this episode up on January 1st, and the previous one was in August.**

 **... and now I'm picturing some guy with year-long block thinking I'm a douche. Sorry. About that and the four-month hiatus.**

 **In any case, sorry, but this cliffhanger is going to last a while longer, since I'm trying to build up a backlog of chapters and I'm impulsively posting this one because one of y'all gave me a review that said 'happy new year' and I was so touched that I decided to be a moron. In any case, the next chapter is another Web, but after that there's the final chapter of this arc.  
**

 **And after that we're starting one of the story arcs I've been most excited about doing.**

 **It's got DOOM, LORD OF LATVERIA in it!**

 **Sidenote: I'm thinking of adding another genre, since this story is marked as Adventure and nothing else. What would you recommend, dear readers?**

 **Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year and New Decade!**


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